The President said nothing, but smiled a little scornfully. Nothing gave Bagshaw such keen delight as to see a gentleman, even such a wreck of a gentleman as Carey, in a base position.
"Mrs. Carey spoke to you about it some t-time ago, I be-believe," stammered Carey, who was sorry that he had come there by this time. "I was a useful public servant."
"We are under great obligations to Mrs. Oswald Carey," he said, "and I shall see that you are restored to your position, only you must not be so obstinate about your assessments in the future, as there is no Legitimate party now, thanks to your beautiful wife."
"Thanks to my beautiful wife! What do you mean, sir?" blurted Carey, staggering over toward the President and resting upon his two hands on the desk. "Thanks to my beautiful wife!"
"Come, come, sir," said the President, "be seated. You, of course, know what I mean. Your wife never spoke to me about restoring you to your office. She said that she would some time ask a favor of me in return for the information which she gave me. You have come to claim that return. I will keep my promise to her. However, if you do not leave brandy alone, the office will not do you much good."
"Damn your office," cried Carey, who had been a gentleman and a man of honor before the passion for gambling had seized upon him. Once he had dreamed of a home, of children who should be proud to own him as their father, and he still loved his wife. "What information did Mrs. Carey give you?"
Carey's hands nervously clutched a heavy bronze inkstand, which lay on the table in front of the President.
"The information which led to the suppression of the Royalist outbreak at Aldershot. Mrs. Carey is a government spy and informer," answered Bagshaw brutally. Then he tried to rise from his chair, for he saw a threatening look in Carey's eye.
He was too late, for Carey, crying, "You lie, you hound!" lifted up the heavy inkstand which his hands had been mechanically clutching, and hurled it at the President's bald head.