Hastings grinned satirically. "There ain't nobody that don't care about money," said he, "any more than there's anybody that don't care about air to breathe. Put a pin right there, Jinny."
"I hate to think that," she said, reluctantly, "but I'm afraid—it's—so."
As she was taking her ride one morning she met David Hull also on horseback and out for his health. He turned and they rode together, for several miles, neither breaking the silence except with an occasional remark about weather or scenery. Finally Davy said:
"You seem to be down about something, too?"
"Not exactly down," replied Jane. "Simply—I've been doing a lot of thinking—and planning—or attempt at planning—lately."
"I, too," said Davy.
"Naturally. How's politics?"
"Of course I don't hear anything but that I'm going to be elected. If you want to become convinced that the whole world is on the graft, take part in a reform campaign. We've attracted every broken-down political crook in this region. It's hard to say which crowd is the more worthless, the college amateurs at politics or these rotten old in-goods who can't get employment with either Kelly or House and, so, have joined us. By Jove, I'd rather be in with the out and out grafters—the regulars that make no bones of being in politics for the spoils. There's slimy hypocrisy over our crowd that revolts me. Not a particle of sincerity or conviction. Nothing but high moral guff."
"Oh, but YOU'RE sincere, Davy," said Jane with twinkling eyes.
"Am I?" said Davy angrily. "I'm not so damn sure of it." Hastily, "I don't mean that. Of course, I'm sincere—as sincere as a man can be and get anywhere in this world. You've got to humbug the people, because they haven't sense enough to want the truth."