"I took it—last night."
Her eyes searched his wonderingly but there was no evident tension in her. Doak sat on the glider.
She said, "I was too forward to be believed this afternoon, perhaps? Did you listen last night?"
"I listened. I'm from Security, Martha—or was. I'm resigning."
"Oh? To fight the good fight?"
He nodded. "But legally—or what is known as legally. Through the pressure-group pattern. I know my way around Washington, Martha. I think, in time and with the right people behind me, I think I could—oh, hell!"
"Yes," she said. "Oh, hell! When you were swimming this afternoon we could have got this, Doak. I told them to wait. I told them I thought you had the makings of an honest man."
"Why?" He stared at her.
"I don't know why. Maybe your curly hair. I'm admitting nothing along that line, not yet, Doak. I want to see what kind of fighter you are, how much man you are."
"I wish I knew," he said quietly. "One thing I'm sure of, I'm going to enjoy the battle."