He turned on his heel and left, his jaw set, his blue eyes
dancing with fury.
Old Edward was again rubbing his hands apologetically at the door:
"A body of clergymen from Chicago, sir----"
"Clergymen from Chicago?"
"Yes, sir."
"I didn't know they ever used such things in Chicago!"
He caught his knee in his big hands, leaned back and laughed heartily.
The doorman looked straight ahead and managed to keep his solemn
countenance under control.
"All right, let them in, Edward."
The reverend gentlemen solemnly filed into the executive office. They
looked around in evident amazement at its bare poverty-stricken
appearance. They had been shocked at the threadbare appearance of the
White House grounds as they entered. This room was a greater shock--this
throbbing nerve centre of the Nation. In the middle stood the long,
plain table around which the storm-racked Cabinet were wont to gather.
There was not a single piece of ornamental or superfluous furniture
visible. It appeared almost bare. A second-hand upright desk stood by
the middle window. In the northwest corner of the room there were racks
with map rollers, and folios of maps on the floor and leaning against
the wall.
The well-dressed, prosperous-looking gentlemen gazed about in a critical
way.
Their spokesman was a distinguished Bishop who knew that he was
distinguished and conveyed the information in every movement of his
august body.
Pages:
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286