The chaos of the river and two tiny figures staggering hour after hour over the hopeless, impossible chasms and buttes; Harden going to the rescue of Forrester.

Starlight on the desert.  Diana’s touch on his forehead, her tender, gentle fingers smoothing his hair as they gazed together at the mysterious shadowy depth beyond which flowed the Colorado; that tender touch on his hair and forehead and the desert stars thrilling near, infinitely remote.

Suddenly Enoch, resting his arm on the mantel, dropped his forehead upon it and stood so, the wonderful glowing colors of the painting seeming to shimmer on his bronze hair.  At last, at the sound of Jonas’s footstep in the hall, he lifted his head, turned off the light above the painting, crossed to his desk and, dropping the still unopened envelope into a secret drawer, locked it and put the key in his pocket.

The following morning Senator Havisham came to see Enoch.  He was one of the leading members of Enoch’s party, a virile, progressive man, very little older than the Secretary himself.  After shaking hands with Enoch and taking one of his cigars, he sat staring at him as if he scarcely knew how to begin.

Enoch smiled half sadly.  “Go ahead, Senator,” he said.  “You and I have known each other a long time.”

The Senator smiled in return.  “Yes, we have, Huntingdon, and I’m proud of the fact.  That is why I was asked to undertake this errand which has an unpleasant as well as a pleasant side.  We want you to run as our presidential nominee.  But before we pass the word around, we want you to issue a denial of the Brown canard that will settle that kind of mud slinging at you for good and all.”

Enoch’s face was a cold mask.  “I can’t deny it, Havisham.  The facts stated are true.  The inferences drawn as to my character are false.  The bringing of Miss Allen into the story was a blasphemy.  All things considered, as far as publicity goes, utter silence is my only recourse.  As for my private retaliation on Brown, that’s another and a personal matter.”

Senator Havisham looked at Enoch through half-shut eyes.

“Huntingdon, let me issue that statement, exactly as you have made it.”

“No,” replied Enoch flatly.  “The less reference made by us to the Brown canard, the better chance of its being forgotten.”

The Senator puffed silently, then said, “Why does Brown hate you?”

“I have fought his Mexican policy.”

“Yes, I know, but is that the only reason?”

“As far as my knowledge goes,” replied Enoch.  “Of course, now that he’s openly committed to Fowler, he has an added grievance.”

“There is nothing personal between you?”

“I never laid eyes on the man in my life.  I never did him an intentional injury.  I am merely in his way.  I always have despised his papers and now I despise him.  Understand, Senator, that, without regard to diplomacy, Brown and I must have it out.”