With the _Sunday Post_, he has solved the problem. They open their
mouths; and he gives them their politics wrapped up in pictures and
gossipy pars."
Miss Greyson rose and put away her embroidery. "But what's his object?"
she said. "He must have more money than he can spend; and he works like
a horse. I could understand it, if he had any beliefs."
"Oh, we can all persuade ourselves that we are the Heaven-ordained
dictator of the human race," he answered. "Love of power is at the
bottom of it. Why do our Rockefellers and our Carnegies condemn
themselves to the existence of galley slaves, ruining their digestions so
that they never can enjoy a square meal. It isn't the money; it's the
trouble of their lives how to get rid of that. It is the notoriety, the
power that they are out for. In Carleton's case, it is to feel himself
the power behind the throne; to know that he can make and unmake
statesmen; has the keys of peace and war in his pocket; is able to
exclaim: Public opinion? It is I."
"It can be a respectable ambition," suggested Joan.
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