The senator shook his head. “The game appeals to me. I fool around with it. It’s a game of logic and also a game of ethics. You are perforce a gentleman when you play it. You observe certain rules of correctness of behavior.”
“Like life, senator?”
“Like life should be,” said the senator. “When the odds are too terrific, you resign. You do not force your opponent to play out to the bitter end. That’s ethics. When you see that you can’t win, but that you have a fighting chance, you try for the next best thing—a draw. That’s logic.”
Lee laughed, a bit uncomfortably. “You’ve lived according to those rules, senator?”
“I’ve done my best,” said the senator, trying to sound humble.
Lee rose. “I must be going, senator.”
“Stay and have a drink.”
Lee shook his head. “Thanks, but I have work to do.”
“I owe you a drink,” said the senator. “Remind me of it sometime.”
For a long time after Lee left, Senator Homer Leonard sat unmoving in his chair.