Behind the candidate's urbane mask rioted a lust to mar and maim, but his political self explained blandly:—
"Meaning that your checkmate in this morning's Whig was well played."
"I didn't write that editorial."
"I know you didn't. It had the Volney Sprague earmarks. But you did what is more important,—you inspired it."
"Well?"
"Just this: in a general way I admit its justness, and come frankly to tell you so."
"Why should you trouble yourself?"
Shelby throttled his mounting ire.
"Because," he returned slowly, "I recognize your ability and want your support. If you mean to interest yourself in politics, I can be of service to you. I know, of course, you don't think politicians are necessarily scamps."
"I judge no class of men so summarily," Graves opened his mouth to protest. "That is too much like Burke's indictment against a whole people, you know."