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the conflict-第52章

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‘‘Anything; Victoranythingbut don't send me away。''

And he; seeing and hearing; lost his boasted self… control。  ‘‘Gogo;'' he cried harshly。  ‘‘If you don't go''  He came round the table; seizing her as she rose; kissed her upon the lips; upon the eyes。  ‘‘You are lovelylovely!'' he murmured。  ‘‘And I who can't have flowers on my table or in sight when I've got  anything serious to doI love your perfume and your color and the wonderful softness of you''

He pushed her away。  ‘‘Nowwill you go?'' he cried。

His eyes were flashing。  And she was trembling from head to foot。

She was gazing at him with a fascinated expression。  ‘‘I understand what you meant when you warned me to go;'' she said。  ‘‘I didn't believe it; but it was so。''

‘‘GoI tell you!'' he ordered。

‘‘It's too late;'' said she。  ‘‘You can't send me away nowfor you have kissed me。  If I'm in your power; you're in my power; too。''

Moved by the same impulse both looked up the arbor toward the rear door of the house。  There stood Selma Gordon; regarding them with an expression of anger as wild as the blood of the steppes that flowed in her veins。  Victor; with what composure he could master; put out his hand in farewell to Jane。  He had been too absorbed in the emotions raging between him and her to note Selma's expression。  But Jane; the woman; had seen。  As she shook hands with Victor; she said neither high nor low:

‘‘Selma knows that I care。  I told her the night of the riot。''

‘‘Good…by;'' said Victor in a tone she thought it wise not to dispute。

‘‘I'll be in the woods above the park at ten tomorrow;''  she said in an undertone。  Then to Selma; unsmilingly:  ‘‘You're not interrupting。  I'm going。''  Selma advanced。  The two girls looked frank hostility into each other's eyes。  Jane did not try to shake hands with her。  With a nod and a forced smile of conventional friendliness upon her lips; she passed her and went through the house and into the street。

She lingered at the gate; opening and closing it in a most leisurely fashiona significantly different exit from her furtive and ashamed entrance。  Love and revolt were running high and hot in her veins。  She longed openly to defy the worldher world。



VII


Impulse was the dominant strain in Selma Gordon's characterimpulse and frankness。  But she was afraid of Victor Dorn as we all are afraid of those we deeply respectthose whose respect is the mainstay of our self…confidence。  She was moving toward him to pour out the violence that was raging in her on the subject of this flirtation of Jane Hastings。  The spectacle of a useless and insincere creature like that trifling with her deity; and being permitted to trifle; was more than she could endure。  But Victor; dropping listlessly to his chair and reaching for his pencil; was somehow a check upon her impetuousness。  She paused long enough to think the sobering second thought。  To speak would be both an impertinence and a folly。  She owed it to the cause and to her friend Victor to speak; but to speak at the wrong time and in the wrong way would be worse than silence。

Said he:  ‘‘I was finishing this when she came。  I'll be done in a minute。  Please read what I've written and tell me what you think。''

Selma took up the loose sheets of manuscript and stood reading his inaugural of the new New Day。  As she read she forgot the petty matter that had so agitated her a moment before。  This salutatorythis address to the working classthis plan of a campaign to take Remsen City out of the hands of its exploiters and despoilers and make it a city fit for civilized residence and worthy of its population of intelligent; progressive workingmenthis leading editorial for the first number was Victor Dorn at his greatest and best。  The man of action with all the enthusiasm of a dreamer。  The shrewd; practical politician with the outlook of a statesman。  How honest and impassioned he was; yet how free from folly and cant。  Several times as she read Selma lifted her eyes to look at him in generous; worshipful admiration。  She would not have dared let him see; she would not have dared speak the phrases of adoration of his genius that crowded to her lips。  How he would have laughed at herhe who thought about himself as a personality not at all; but only as an instrument。

‘‘Here's the rest of it;'' said he; throwing himself back in his chair and relighting his pipe。

She finished a moment later; said as she laid the manuscript on the table:  ‘‘That's the best you've ever done。''

‘‘I think so;'' agreed he。  ‘‘It seems to me I've got a new grip on things。  I needed a turn such as your friend Davy Hull gave me。  Nothing like rivalry to spur a man on。  The old crowd was so stupidcunning; but stupid。  But Hull injects a new element into the struggle。  To beat him we've got to use our best brains。''

‘‘We've got to attack him;'' said Selma。  ‘‘After all; he is the enemy。  We can't let him disarm us by an act of justice。''

‘‘No; indeed;'' said Victor。  ‘‘But we'll have to be careful。  Here's what I'm going to carry on the first page。''

He held up a sheet of paper on which he had written with a view to effective display the names of the four most offensive local corporations with their contribution25;000 eachto the campaign fund of the Citizens' Alliance。  ‘‘Under it; in big type;'' proceeded he; ‘‘we'll carry a line asking; ‘Is the Citizens' Alliance fooling these four corporations or is it fooling the people?'  I think that will be more effective than columns of attack。''

‘‘We ought to get that out on wall…bills and dodgers;'' suggested Selma; ‘‘and deluge the town with it once or twice a week until election。''

‘‘Splendid!'' exclaimed Victor。  ‘‘I'll make a practical politician of you yet。''

Colman and Harbinger and Jocelyn and several others of the League leaders came in one at a time; and the plan of campaign was developed in detail。  But the force they chiefly relied upon was the influence of their twelve hundred men; their four or five thousand women and young men and girls; talking every day and evening; each man or woman or youth with those with whom he came into contact。  This ‘‘army of education'' was disciplined; was educated; knew just what arguments to use; had been cautioned against disputes; against arousing foolish antagonisms。  The League had nothing to conceal; no object to gain but the government of Remsen City by and for its citizenswell paved; well lighted; clean streets; sanitary houses; good and clean street car service; honest gas; pure water; plenty of good schoolsthat first of all。  The ‘‘reform crowd''the Citizens' Alliancelike every reform party of the past; proposed to do practically the same things。  But the League met this with:  ‘‘Why should we elect an upper class government to do for us what we ought to do for ourselves?  And how can they redeem their promises when they are tied up in a hundred ways to the very people who have been robbing and cheating us?''

There were to be issues of the New Day; there were to be posters and dodgers; public meetings in halls; in squares; on street corners。  But the main reliance now as always was this educated ‘‘army of education'' these six thousand missionarie
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