“Why not, pray?”
“I haven’t the time, for one thing, nor the experience in––”
She swept away his objections with a stiff gesture. “You’re modest, and it’s becoming. But either you’re with us or against us: there’s no half-way about morals. If you’re with us, you ought to show your colours. And if you are with us, you’ll lead us, because you’re a born leader. You inspire. You instill. And for the sake of the common welfare––” She paused: he was staring at her as if hypnotized. “For the sake of the city and the state and the 94 nation––” His eyes were wide, and filled with a light which deceived her. “For the sake of civic honour and decency and self-respect––”
Mr. Mix cleared his throat. “Yes, but––”
Again, she leaned out and touched his arm. “For my sake?”
Mr. Mix recoiled slightly. “For your sake!” he muttered.
“Yes, for mine. The sister of your oldest friend.”
He owed her five thousand dollars, and if she demanded payment, he was a bankrupt. “Why does it mean so much to you?” he asked, sparring for time.
“It would be an epoch in the history of the League, Mr. Mix.”
“You spoke about leadership. No one can hope to replace yourself.”