"Personally, I think it is splendid. But the important thing is: does it satisfy you?"
"Oh, quite." He added: "If they had gone outside for a man, I might have felt slighted. It is very different with a man like West. I am perfectly willing to wait. You may remember that I did not promise to be editor in any particular year."
"I know. And when they do elect you—you see I say when, and not if—shall you pitch it in their faces, as you said?"
"No—I have decided to keep it—for a time at any rate."
Sharlee smiled, but it was an inward smile and he never knew anything about it. "Have you gotten really interested in the work—personally interested, I mean?"
He hesitated. "I hardly like to say how much."
"The more you become interested in it—and I believe it will be progressive—the less you will mind saying so."
"It is a strange interest—utterly unlike me—"
"How do you know it isn't more like you than anything you ever did in your life?"
That struck him to silence; he gave her a quick inquiring glance, and looked away at once; and Sharlee, for the moment entirely oblivious of the noise and the throng all about her, went on.