"
"We Americans," Diana lifted her chin and looked into Enoch's eyes very
directly, "feel that at least one politician has played a clean game.
It is a very great privilege for me to know you, Mr. Huntingdon."
"Miss Allen," half whispered Enoch, "if you really knew me, with all my
inward devils and my half-achieved dreams, you would realize that it's
no privilege at all. Nevertheless, I wish that you did know all about
me. It would make me feel that the friendship which we are forming
could stand even 'the wreckful siege of battering days'!"
"There was a man who understood friendships!" said Diana quickly. "He
said in his sonnets all that could be said about it."
"Now don't disappoint me by agreeing with the idiots who try to prove
that Shakespeare wrote the sonnets to a man!" cried Enoch. "Only a
woman could have brought forth that beauty of song."
Diana rose nobly to do battle. "What nonsense, Mr. Huntingdon! As if
a man like Shakespeare--" She paused as if struck by a sudden thought.
"That's a curious attitude for a notorious woman hater to take, Mr.
Secretary."
Enoch laid down his fork. "Do you think I'm a woman hater, Miss
Allen?" looking steadily into Diana's eyes.
"I didn't mean to be so personal.
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