"It's rather fine of you," remarked Miss Thornhill.
"It's asinine, if it's true," the professor voiced the other side of it.
"You have said yourself—or at least you claim to have said—" Mr. Magee reminded him, "one girl like that is worth a million suffragettes."
"And can make just as much trouble," complained Professor Bolton. "I shall certainly see to it that the hermit's book has an honored place in our college library."
Out of the big chair into which he had sunk came the wail of the uncomprehending Cargan:
"He's done this thing to me after all I've done for him."
"I hope every one is quite comfortable," remarked Mr. Magee, selecting a seat facing the crowd. "It's to be a long wait, you know."
There was no answer. The wind roared lustily at the windows. The firelight flickered redly on the faces of Mr. Magee's prisoners.
