"I'll be pleased to have you go along with Harlan
and myself. If you'll excuse me now, I'll finish signing these letters."
The old man was not disturbed by this abruptness. He rose.
"I reckon you know how to play the game, Vard," he said. "I'm perfectly
satisfied, now that I know you are playing it. But you'll excuse me for
being a little uneasy about your starting in."
He did not interrupt Harlan, who was busy at his desk. He picked up one
of the newspapers that covered the General's table, and marched out into
the garden.
He joined them when they came out. The General's old-fashioned carryall
conveyed them to the railroad station. They made the journey to the
capital without a word of reference to the purpose of their trip.
Unobtrusively chatting about the old times, the Duke and his friend made
their way back to their old footing. It was mutual forbearance and
forgiveness, for they were old enough to be philosophers, and especially
did they understand the philosophy of politics.
Chairman Presson was in his office at his hotel when they entered.
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