Krebs's fingers closed over the paper, crumpling it.
“Oh, then, you know about this,” he said. He was putting the paper back into his pocket when I took it from him. But my adroitness, so carefully schooled, seemed momentarily to have deserted me. What should I say? It was necessary to decide quickly.
“Don't you take rather a—prejudiced view of this, Krebs?” I said. “Upon my word, I can't see why you should accept a rumour running around the lobbies that Mr. Watling drafted this bill for a particular purpose.”
He was silent. But his eyes did not leave my face.
“Why should any sensible man, a member of the legislature, take stock in that kind of gossip?” I insisted. “Why not judge this bill by its face, without heeding a cock and bull story as to how it may have originated? It is a good bill, or a bad bill? Let's see what it says.”
I read it.
“So far as I can see, it is legislation which we ought to have had long ago, and tends to compel a publicity in corporation affairs that is much needed, to put a stop to practices which every decent citizen deplores.”
He drew the paper out of my hand.
“You needn't go on, Paret,” he told me. “It's no use.”
“Well, I'm sorry we don't agree,” I said, and got up. I left him twisting the paper in his fingers.