Clutching Spinney with one
hand, he threw open the door and pushed him in, followed him, and closed
the door. He locked it, and stood with his back against it.
In that moment he did not reflect that in obeying General Waymouth so
implicitly he might be playing traitor to his own flesh and blood. But
the Duke, in his cynicism, had never attracted his grandson's political
loyalty. That had seemed a matter apart from the family ties between
them. His grandfather had set him on the trail of decency in politics,
and had given him a leader to follow.
The frankness with which his grandfather had exposed the code by which
he and his ilk operated in politics, making tricks, subterfuge, and
downright dishonesty an integral part of the game and entitled to
absolution, had divorced Harlan's straightforward sympathies when the
question came to issue between his own relative, complacently
unscrupulous, and General Waymouth, heroically casting off bonds of
friendship and political affiliations, and standing for what was
obviously the right.
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