“No,” said Joe, with a little laugh, “I am not so clever as that. It was pure silliness–chaff, you know–that sort of thing.”
“Oh,” ejaculated John, still quite unmoved, “then it was not of any importance.”
“Very silly things sometimes turn out to be very important. Saul, you know–was not it he?–was looking for asses and he found a kingdom.”
John laughed suddenly. “And so it is clear which part Vancouver and I played in the business,” he said. “But where is the kingdom?”
“I did not mean that,” said Joe, seriously. “I am not making fun any more. I have not been successful in my chaff to-day. I should think that in your career it would be very important for you to know who are your friends. Is it not?”
“Certainly,” said John, looking at her curiously. “It is very important; but I think political life is generally much simpler than people suppose. It is rather like fighting. The man who hits you is your enemy. The man who does not is practically your friend. Do you mean in regard to Vancouver?”
“Yes.”
“Vancouver never hit me, that I can swear,” said John, “and I am very sure I never hit him.”
“I dare say I am mistaken,” said Joe. “You ought to know best. Let us leave him alone.”
“With all my heart,” answered John.