He
remembered Luzanne, and now with a spirit alive with anger he said to
her:
"No--no--no, he cannot win." He stretched out a hand. "I have that which
will keep for me the place in Parliament that has been mine; which will
send him back to the isolation whence he came. Do you think I don't know
how to win an election? Why from east to west, from north to south in
this Province of Quebec my name, my fame, have been all-conquering.
Suppose he did defeat me, do you think that would end my political life?
It would end nothing. I should still go on."
A scornful smile came to her lips. "So you think your party would find a
seat for you who had been defeated by a young man who never knew what
political life meant till he came to this campaign? You think they would
find you a seat? I know you are coming to the end of your game, and when
he defeats you, it will finish everything for you. You will disappear
from public life, and your day will be done. Men will point at you as you
pass along the street, and say: 'There goes Barode Barouche. He was a
great man in his day. He was defeated by a boy with a painter's brush in
his hand.' He will take from you your livelihood. You will go, and he
will stay; he will conquer and grow strong.
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