“No,” said Peter promptly.
“I thought it didn’t,” said Leonore, her eyes dancing with pleasure, however, at the reply. “We had Mr. Pell to lunch to-day and I spoke to him as to what you said about the bosses, and he told me that bosses could never be really good, unless the better element were allowed to vote, and not the saloon-keepers and roughs. I could see he was right, at once.”
“From his point of view. Or rather the view of his class.”
“Don’t you think so?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Broadly speaking, all persons of sound mind are entitled to vote on the men and the laws which are to govern them. Aside from this, every ounce of brain or experience you can add to the ballot, makes it more certain. Suppose you say that half the people are too ignorant to vote sensibly. Don’t you see that there is an even chance, at least, that they’ll vote rightly, and if the wrong half carries the election, it is because more intelligent people have voted wrongly, have not voted, or have not taken the trouble to try and show the people the right way, but have left them to the mercies of the demagogue. If we grant that every man who takes care of himself has some brain, and some experience, his vote is of some value, even if not a high one. Suppose we have an eagle, and a thousand pennies. Are we any better off by tossing away the coppers, because each is worth so little. That is why I have always advocated giving the franchise to women. If we can add ten million voters to an election, we have added just so much knowledge to it, and made it just so much the harder to mislead or buy enough votes to change results.”
“You evidently believe,” said Watts, “in the saying, ‘Everybody knows more than anybody?’”
Peter had forgotten all about his company in his interest over—over the franchise. So he started slightly at this question, and looked up from—from his subject.
“Yes,” said Le Grand. “We’ve been listening and longing to ask questions. When we see such a fit of loquacity, we want to seize the opportunity.”