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Updated: May 31, 2025
But instead of keeping up his work, he went on to the house with her. Miss Amabel would not go in and when he had said good-bye to her affectionately, charmingly, as if to assure her that, after all, she needn't fear him even with Weedie who wasn't important enough to slay he entered the house in definite search of Lydia.
"I've been trying to undermine Weedie," said Jeff, "with Amabel. I can't quite do it, but I've got her to promise me some of her money. For plays, Lydia, played by Mill End. What do you say?" "She hasn't money enough for real plays," said Lydia. "All she's got wouldn't last a minute." "Not in a hall?" asked Jeff. "Not with scenery just sketched in, as it were? But all of it patriotic.
Mayor, and then governor and I wouldn't undertake to say where Weedie'd be willing to stop. Not short of an ambassadorship." "Choate," said Jeffrey cheerfully, "you're an alarmist." "Oh, no, I'm not. A man like Weedie can get anywhere, because he's no scruples and he can rake in mere numbers to back him. And it's all right. This is a democracy.
Is Weedie compassionate?" "Oh, Weedie's working Amabel and telling the mill hands they're great fellows and very much abused and ought to own the earth. Weedie wants their votes." "Then Weedie is up for office? Amabel told me so, but I didn't think Addington'd stand for it. Time was when, if a man like Weedie had put up his head, nobody'd have taken the trouble to bash it. We should have laughed."
She seemed to him a most piteous spectacle, youth and power in ruins, and age too poor to nourish even a vine to drape the crumbling walls. "Patricia Beattie," she continued, "again a casus belli. Combat between two men " "There won't be any combat," Jeff reminded her. "If I kick Weedie, he'll take it lying down. That's Weedie." "I shall stand by," said Madame Beattie.
"We don't laugh now," said Choate gravely. There was even warning in his voice. "Not since Weedie and his like have told the working class it owns the earth." "And doesn't it?" "Yes. In numbers. It can vote itself right into destruction which is what it's doing." "And Weedie wants to be mayor." "God knows what he wants.
"They won't elect me," said Moore, from his general overthrow. "Six months ago every man Jack of 'em was promised to me. Somebody's tampered with 'em. I don't know whether it's you or Madame Beattie. She led me on, a couple of weeks ago, into telling her what I knew about trickery at the polls " "All you knew?" Jeff could not resist saying. "All you know about trickery, Weedie?"
She was settled by English. You and I are English. We aren't going to let east of Europe or south of Europe or middle Europe come over here and turn old Addington into something that's not Anglo-Saxon. O Choate, wake up. Come alive. Stop being temperate. Run for mayor and beat Weedie out of his skin."
He tells him Weedie'll get him shorter and shorter hours, and make him a present of the machinery he runs or let him break it and the poor devil believes him. Weedie has told him that's the kind of a country this is. And nobody else is taking the trouble to tell him anything else." "Well, for God's sake, why don't they?" "Because we're riddled with compassion, I tell you.
"Moore?" he repeated. "He has asked me Jeff, I am a woman of sixty and over he has asked me to marry him." "Wait a minute," said Jeff. "I've forgotten something." He wheeled away from her and ran out and down the path after Weedie Moore. Weedie's legs, being short, had not covered ground very fast. Jeff had no trouble in overtaking him.
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