"And it impresses the people, too.
We're all snobs at bottom. We're not yet developed enough to
appreciate such a lofty abstraction as democracy."
True, Margaret was not rich; but the old grandmother was.
Doubtless, if he managed her right, she would see to it that he
and Margaret had some such luxury as these grandly-housed people--
"but not too much, for that would interfere with my political
program." He did not protest this positively; the program seemed,
for the moment, rather vague and not very attractive. The main
point seemed to be money and the right sort of position among the
right sort of people. He shook himself, scowled, muttered: "I am a
damn fool! What do _I_ amount to except as I rise in politics and
stay risen? I must be mighty careful or I'll lose my point of view
and become a wretched hanger-on at the skirts of these fakers. For
they are fakers--frauds of the first water! Take their accidental
money away from them and they'd sink to be day laborers, most of
them--and not of much account there."
He was sorely perplexed; he did not know what to do--what he ought
to do--even what he wanted to do. One thing seemed clear--that he
had gone further than was necessary in antagonizing the old woman.
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