Someone in the corner said, some voice from some other time and place: You’re no gentleman, senator. You fight a dirty fight.
Sure I do, said the senator. They fought dirty first. And politics always was a dirty game.
Remember all that fine talk you dished out to Lee the other day?
That was the other day, snapped the senator.
You’ll never be able to look a chessman in the face again, said the voice in the corner.
I’ll be able to look my fellow men in the face, however, said the senator.
Will you? asked the voice.
And that, of course, was the question. Would he?
I don’t care, the senator cried desperately. I don’t care what happens. They played a lousy trick on me. They can’t get away with it. I’ll fix their clocks for them. I’ll—
Sure, you will, said the voice, mocking.