"Do. Not quite so tight. And now--those new States come in so fast!--how many now?"
She sewed rapidly, and without looking up, until she had completed the first row. "There--there's one of the eights. Now you can breathe again, Andie."
Balfe sat back. "What did you make of Mr. Necker, Marie?"
She, too, sat back. "I wonder what I did make of him. He was very curious about you."
"Yes. He asked questions and I couldn't quite fib to him, and yet I couldn't see why he should expect me to tell him all about you. And so"--she paused and the little half-smile was hovering around again.
"And so I did not attempt to check his imagination." She repeated the conversation of the afternoon. "I meant to speak of it at dinner, Andie, to you and Greg, but I forgot."
"Here's a far traveller--" He paused. She looked up, and quickly looked down.
"--who gives thanks that you forgot, Marie, in that first glad hour, Mr. Necker and his--well, his possible mission."
"You know something of him, then, Andie?"
"I'm still guessing. But I'm wondering now if you said to yourself when he had gone: 'After all, what will Greg get out of this government work? Is it fair to himself to refuse those great offers and stick down here? And what will it mean to young Greg?'"
Marie Welkie let the ensign drop onto the table. "My very thoughts in words, Andie. And while we're speaking of it, will Greg ever get the recognition due him, Andie?"
"Dear me, that some day! After he is dead, I suppose. You men are the idealists! But being only a woman, Andie Balfe, I don't want to wait that long to see my brother rewarded."
"And being only a man, Marie Welkie, I also want to see my friend rewarded before he's laid away."
"Who could answer that? But I stopped off in Washington on my way, Marie, and had a long talk with a man who is fine enough to appreciate the dreams of idealists and yet sufficiently human to allow for most human weaknesses. We discussed Greg and his work. The Construction people were mentioned. He asked me if I thought Greg would go with them. 'And if he does, Mr. President, can be he blamed?' was my answer."
"He leaned back in his chair and looked through his glasses with his eyebrows drawn together, in that way you'd think he was scowling if you didn't know him. After a moment he said: 'I should be sorry, but if he does, no professional or legal--no, nor moral--obligations can hold him.'"