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As he set down his half-finished
tumbler, and turned to leave, he found Miss De Voe at his elbow, about
to take her morning glass.
"This is a very pleasant surprise," she said, holding out her hand.
"When did you arrive?"
"I only came last night."
"And how long shall you be here?"
"I cannot say. I am attending the convention, and my stay will depend on
that."
"Surely you are not a Democrat?" said Miss De Voe, a shade of horror
showing itself in her face, in spite of her good breeding. In those days
it was not, to put it mildly, a guarantee of respectability to belong to
that party, and Miss De Voe had the strong prejudices of her social
station, all the more because she was absolutely ignorant of political
events.
Peter said he was.
"How can you be? When a man can ally himself with the best, why should
he choose the worst?"
"I think," said Peter quietly, "that a Pharisee said the same thing, in
different words, many hundred years ago."
Miss De Voe caught her breath and flushed.


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