She blushed for an instant at her silly inconsistency. But a moment ago she had herself denounced the young statesman with unmeasured violence. In the next moment she was resenting an attack on him.
Waldron watched her hesitation with surprise and renewed his plea with more warmth than he had ever displayed.
Virginia extended her hand in a quick business-like way.
“Of course I’ll preside. We are fighting for the same great end.”
Waldron made no effort to press his victory. He rose at once to go, and bowed low over her hand.
“Au revoir—tomorrow night,” he said in low tones.
Virginia watched him go with a mingled feeling of triumph and fear. There was something about the man that puzzled and annoyed her—something unconvincing in his apparent frankness. And yet the truth about his big life purpose never for a moment entered her imagination.
CHAPTER III
WHEN Meyer reached the quarter of the East Side where eager crowds surge through a little crooked thoroughfare leading from the old Armory on Essex Street he encountered unexpected difficulties.
He ran into a section of John Vassar’s congressional district saturated with the young leader’s ideals of a new Americanism. He was coldly received.