In the case of Madeleine Presson, there was none of this embarrassment.
He saw her often. She met him half-way with a frank interest in his work
and a sympathy which, in those days of truce, did not question his
ideals.
He became a welcome intimate of the Presson household. When he was there
the master himself put aside all the brusqueness he displayed in their
down-town discourse on politics. The girl welcomed him. There were many
hours when they were alone together, in the home or on long drives into
the country. She did not refer to their talk on that evening when she
read to him his lesson on practical politics. He avoided that subject.
He did not want to risk any further disagreement between them on the
matter of ideals--or, for that matter, on any other subject. Association
with her had become too delightful to be put to the test of discussions
of political methods. He was still drawing upon her fund of worldly
wisdom. There was a little touch of the cynic in her. He became secretly
ashamed of some of his ingenuous beliefs, after she had deftly shown him
the other side of things.
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