“You think you can beat us? With Marrineal?”
“Mr. Marrineal isn’t an avowed candidate, is he?” evaded Banneker.
“I fancy that you’ll see some rapidly evolving activity in that quarter.”
“Is it true that Laird has developed social tendencies, and is using the mayoralty to climb?”
“A silly story of his enemies,” answered Enderby contemptuously. “Just the sort of thing that Marrineal would naturally get hold of and use. In so far as Laird has any social relations, they are and always have been with that element which your society reporters call ‘the most exclusive circles,’ because that is where he belongs by birth and association.”
“Russell Edmonds says that social ambition is the only road on which one climbs painfully downhill.”
The other paid the tribute of a controlled smile to this. “Edmonds? A Socialist. He has a gnarled mind. Good, hard-grained wood, though. I suppose no man more thoroughly hates and despises what I represent—or what he thinks I represent, the conservative force of moneyed power—than he does. Yet in any question of professional principles, I would trust him far; yes, and of professional perceptions, too, I think; which is more difficult. A crack-brained sage; but wise. Have you talked over the Laird matter with him?”
“Yes. He’s for Laird.”
“Stick to Edmonds, Banneker. You can’t find a better guide.”
There was desultory talk until the caller got up to go. As they shook hands, Enderby said: