Choleric red suffused his face--it had been gray with passion when he
entered, because a corridor filled with curious men is not a happy arena
for a candidate shut out of committee headquarters.
He realized that he had been a spectacle inciting interest and some
amusement while he was hammering on the door.
One object of the Duke had been attained when he admitted Everett--the
wrangling ceased. But the embarrassment was intensified. The situation
was more complex.
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen, if I am interrupting serious business,"
began Everett, intending to force some sort of explanation.
He waited. No one spoke. The others were waiting, too.
The candidate looked from one to the other, and then surveyed Wasgatt
and the papers he was clutching. He eyed General Waymouth with much
interest and some surprise. He had not been informed of that gentleman's
presence in the hotel. The General returned the gaze with serenity,
creasing his sheet of manuscript on the table with his thin fingers.
"I expected to be called in when you were ready to go over the
platform," continued Everett, sourly.
Pages:
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281