'Bears,' she said with a delicate shudder, and made a face expressive of polite horror.
'Oh, bears, eh,' said Lee. 'He doesn't like bears?'
'I'm scared of bears,' she said.
'Well, that's understandable. They're—uh—they're pretty big, after all. I ain't never dealt with your special Arctic bears, but I was chased by a grizzly once over in the Yukon.'
'Oh, how frightful! Did he catch you?'
And once again Lee felt as if he'd missed the bottom step in the dark: could she really be this stupid? Was she doing it on purpose?
'Well, he did,' he said, 'but it turned out the old feller only wanted to borrow a griddle to cook up a salmon he'd caught. I was agreeable to that, and we sat around yarning over supper. He drank my whisky and smoked my cigars, and we promised to keep in touch. But I lost his address.'
'Oh, that's a pity,' she said. 'But, you know . . .'
Lee scratched his head, but he didn't have to think of anything else to say because at that point a group of three men came onto the stage and the whole audience stood to applaud and cheer. Lee had to stand as well, or seem conspicuously rude, and he looked around for his boardinghouse acquaintance, but among all the faces bright with fervor, the eyes ablaze with enthusiasm, he couldn't spot him anywhere.
As they sat down again Sigurdsson said, 'Wonderful response! Promises very well, wouldn't you say?'
'Never seen anything like it,' said Lee.
He settled back to listen to the speeches.
And very shortly afterwards, it seemed, he was woken up by a roar from the crowd. Cheers, clapping, shouts of acclamation echoed around the big wooden hall as Lee sat blinking and clapping with the rest.
On the platform stood Poliakov, black-coated, heavy-bearded, red-cheeked, with one fist on the lectern and the other clenched at his heart. His eyes glared out across the hall, and his daemon, a kind of hawk that Lee didn't recognize, sat on the lectern and raised her wings till they were outspread.
Lee murmured to Hester, tucked into his coat, 'How long have I been asleep?'
'Ain't been counting.'
'Well, damnit, what's this diplomat been saying?'
'Ain't been listening.'
He stole a glance at Olga, and saw her settled, placid, adoring gaze rest on her father's face without any change of expression, even when the candidate suddenly banged the lectern with his fist and startled his own daemon into taking to the air and wheeling around his head before settling on his shoulder—a fine effect, Lee thought, but Hester muttered, 'How long'd they spend practicing that in front of a mirror?'
'Friends,' Poliakov cried. 'Friends and citizens, friends and human beings, I don't need to warn you about this insidious invasion. I don't
The rest of the sentence was lost, as he intended it should be, in the clamor, the shouts and the whistles and the stamping that broke over it like a great wave.
The poet was on his feet, waving his hands above his head with excitement, and shouting, 'Yes! Yes! Yes!'
On Lee's other side, the candidate's daughter was clapping her hands like a little girl, stiff fingers all pointing in the same direction as she brought her palms together.
It seemed that the end of the speech had arrived, because Poliakov and his men were leaving the platform, and others were beginning to make their way along the rows of chairs, soliciting donations.
'Don't give that bastard a cent,' said Hester.
'Ain't got a cent to give,' muttered Lee.
'Wasn't that magnificent?' said Sigurdsson.
'Finest piece of oratorical flamboyancy I ever heard,' said Lee. 'A lot of it went over my head, on account of I don't know the local situation, but he knows how to preach, and that's a fact.'
'Come with me, and I shall introduce you. Mr. Poliakov will be delighted to make your acquaintance—'
'Oh, no, no,' said Lee hastily. 'It wouldn't be right to waste the man's time when I ain't got a vote to give him.'
'Not at all! In fact I know he will be most gratified to meet you,' said Sigurdsson, lowering his voice confidentially and seizing Lee's elbow in a tight grip. 'There is a job he has in mind,' he murmured.
At the same moment, Olga clutched Lee's other sleeve.
'Mr. Scoresby, do come and meet Papa!' she said, and her eyes were so wide and so candid, and her lips were so soft, and what with those eyes and those lips, and the delicate curls of hair, and that sweet heart- shaped face, Lee very nearly lost his presence of mind altogether and kissed her right there. What did it matter if she had the brain of a grape? It wasn't her brain Lee wanted to hold in his arms. Her body had its own kind of intelligence, just as his did, and their bodies had a great deal to say to each other. His head swam; he was fully persuaded.
'Lead me to him,' he said.
In the parlor behind the platform, Poliakov was standing at the center of a group of men with glasses in their hands and cigars alight, and the little wood-paneled room was filled with laughter and the loud bray of congratulations.
