"I don't know," he said humbly.
"I don't think Father would like it," Dora told him, "if
he knew you were here. Why, we're having an early breakfast
on purpose to let him get out and work for Winter. I
never saw him so excited over an election. To think of
your coming today!"
He made a step toward her. "I came because it is today,"
he said. "Only for a minute, dear. It's a great day for
me, you know--whether we win or lose. I wanted you to be
in it. I wanted you to wish me good luck."
"But you know I always do," she objected.
"Yes, I know. But a fellow likes to hear it, Dora--on
the day, you know. And I've seen so little of you lately."
She looked at him measuringly. "You're looking awfully
thin," she exclaimed, with sudden compunction. "I wish
you had never gone into this horrid campaign. I wish they
had nominated somebody else."
Lorne smiled half-bitterly. "I shouldn't wonder if a few
other people wished the same thing," he said. "But I'm
afraid they'll have to make the best of it now."
Dora had not sanctioned his visit by sitting down; and
as he came nearer to her she drew a step away, moving by
instinct from the capture of the lover. But he had made
little of that, and almost as he spoke was at her side.
She had to yield her hands to him.
"Well, you'll win it for them if anybody could," she
assured him.
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