"I just do!" answered Brent fervently. "Say the word!"
"Yes, then!" whispered Queenie.
She looked at him wonderingly when he had bent and kissed her.
"You're an extraordinary man!" she said. "Whatever am I going to do—now? Homeless!"
"Not much!" exclaimed Brent. "You come along with me, Queenie. I'm a good hand at thinking fast. I'll put you up, warm and comfortable, at Mother Appleyard's; and as quick as the thing can be done we'll be married. Got that into your little head? Come on, then!"
That night Brent told Tansley of what had happened and what he was going to do. Tansley listened, laughed, and shook his head.
"All right, my lad!" he said. "I've no doubt you and Queenie'll suit each other excellently. But you've settled your chances of winning that election, Brent! Simon Crood'll bring up every bit of his heavy artillery against you, now—and will smash you!"