United States or Montenegro ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
No small interest and conjecture were aroused among the editorial staff as to his exact status, stimulus to gossip being afforded by the rumor that he had been, from Marrineal's privy purse, shifted to the office payroll. Russell Edmonds solved and imparted the secret to Banneker. "Ives? Oh, he's the office sandbag." "Translate, Pop. I don't understand." "It's an invention of Marrineal's.
Banneker was far less sanguine; he had come to entertain a considerable respect for Marrineal's capacity. And he had another and more immediate complication on his mind, which fact his companion, by some occult exercise of divination, perceived. "What else is worrying you, Ban?" she asked. Banneker did not want to talk about that. He wanted to talk about Io, about themselves. He said so.
The labor editorials suited him admirably. They were daily winning back to the paper the support of Marrineal's pet "common people" who had been alienated by its course in the strike, for McClintick and other leaders had been sedulously spreading the story of the rejected strikers' advertisement. But, it appeared, Marrineal's estimate of the public's memory was correct: "They never remember."
Yes: Dilson, one of the men frequently assigned to do Marrineal's and Ives's special work had been sent to Enderby's on the previous day with specific instructions to ask a single question: "When was the Judge going to issue his formal withdrawal": Yes: that was the precise form of the question: not, "Was he going to withdraw," but "When was he," and so on.
Marrineal's slow, sparse smile hardly moved his lips. "It's in character that you should. What else is there for you?" "Well?" "Have you ever thought of The Patriot?" Involuntarily Banneker straightened in his chair. "Is The Patriot in the market?" "Hardly. That isn't what I have in mind." "Will you kindly be more explicit?" "Mr. Banneker, I intend to be the next governor of this State."
Certainly he did not intend to hunt in those fields, unless he could contrive a weapon of overwhelming caliber. Ely Ives's analysis of Banneker's situation was in a measure responsible for Marrineal's proposition of the new deal to his editor. "He has accepted it," the owner told his purveyor of information. "But the real fight is to come." "Over the policy of the editorial page," opined Ives.
A full page I don't know what he'll offer for that. An editorial by E.B. perhaps." "Betty!" "Forgive me, Ban. I'm sick at heart over it all. Of course, I know you wouldn't." Going back in his car, Banneker reflected with profound distaste that the plan upon which he was hired was not essentially different from the Zucker scheme, in Marrineal's intent.
"I'm not going to hurt you yet. By what right did you do it?" "Orders." "Marrineal's?" "Yes." With no further word, Banneker strode to the owner's office, pushed open the door, and entered. Marrineal looked up, slightly frowning. "Did you kill this editorial?" Marrineal's frown changed to a smile. "Sit down, Mr. Banneker." "Marrineal, did you kill my editorial?"
She killed 'em dead in London in romantic comedy and now she's come back here to repeat." "Oh, yes. Opening to-night, isn't she? I've got a seat." He looked over at Marrineal, who was apparently protesting against his neighbor's reversed wine-glass. "So that's Mr. Marrineal's little style of game, is it?"
But Eyre "belonged" of right. As sufficient indication of Marrineal's status, by the way, it may be pointed out that, while he knew Eyre quite well, it was highly improbable that he would ever know Mrs. Eyre, or, if he did fortuitously come to know her, that he would be able to improve upon the acquaintance. All this Marrineal himself well understood.
Word Of The Day