"The best way to make good sugar is to simmer the sap slowly, my boy."
Harlan glanced sharply at him, but the Duke was not discussing love.
"Vard has got into the simmering stage at last. I reckoned he would.
He's too good a politician to boil the kettle over as he started in
doing. What's the matter with you? You look as though you'd been
listening to a funeral oration instead of an address that has put the
party back on Easy Street."
His grandson was careful not to explain the cause of his gloom. He was
willing to let politics be answerable.
Chairman Presson, more cheerful than he had been for weeks, came and
crowded between them in a cosey, confidential manner.
"Say, the old fellow is getting smoothed down," he chuckled. "That
address was milk for babes. He's got good sense. The thin edge of that
plurality made him think twice. I reckon he's going to play a safe game
after this. I don't know what he wanted to throw such a scare into us
early in the game for! But as we get old we get cranky, I suppose.
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