open his camps to both sides, and let his men go uninfluenced.”
“That’s the idea, Barrington. The silken touch. That will look magnanimous, too.”
“It will have to be very carefully done. These chaps know well enough what you’re after these days when you do any buttering.”
“They may do. But buttering wins elections just the same. By the way, I didn’t know you were interested in politics.” Davenport Carr said it very carelessly.
“That shows a lamentable lack of knowledge of some of my best work, Carr,” smiled Dane. “However, as it was in Australia, you are pardoned for not being familiar with it. But I’ve always taken considerable interest in the New Zealand legislation. You forget that I’ve been something of an idealist for the human race.”
The older man had to smile at the expression on the younger one’s face. And then the personal charm that emanated from Dane, affecting men as well as women, began to work. And Carr remembered that he was one of the best bridge players he had ever met.
“What about a game to-night?” he asked.
Dane hesitated. “Well, yes, I’d like it. But it would have to be late, Carr. Would you like to have Mac and Doc Steele as well?”
“Yes, all right.”
Just then the sounds of the piano drifted down to them. Davenport Carr thought he detected a swiftly repressed attention to it on the part of the other man. He himself pretended not to know who it was who was playing. But Dane gave no sign. He lit another cigarette and asked Carr how many seats the Opposition hoped to win in Auckland.
