He's the kind of man that suggests--menageries--lions--
danger if the bars break."
"How women do like that in a man!"
"Do you know him?"
"Through and through. He's a fraud, of course, like all
politicians. But beneath the fraud there's a man--I think--a
great, big man, strong and sure of himself--which is what can't be
said of many of us who wear trousers and pose as lords of
creation."
The girl seemed to have ceased to listen, was apparently watching
the dancers, Arkwright continued to gaze at his friend, to admire
the impressive, if obviously posed, effect of his handsome head
and shoulders. He smiled with a tender expression, as one smiles
at the weakness of those one loves. Suddenly he said: "By Jove,
Rita--just the thing!"
"What?" asked the girl, resuming the languid waving of her eagle
fan.
"Marry him--marry Josh Craig. He'll not make much money out of
politics. I doubt if even a woman could corrupt him that far. But
you could take him out of politics and put him in the law. He
could roll it up there. The good lawyers sell themselves dear
nowadays, and he'd make a killing."
"This sounds interesting."
"It's a wonder I hadn't thought of it before.
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