There was Luke Presson's daughter!
He strode into the lobby of the hotel, his face gloomy and his thoughts
dark. Linton stepped forward to meet him, hat and overcoat on. It was
evident that he had been waiting. The sight of him did not improve
Harlan's temper. From the first day of the session they had eyed each
other malevolently. They had bristled at every possible point of
contact. Linton's last exploit had been a speech favoring the railroad
tax rebate, a speech in which he scored those who opposed it as enemies
to the development of the State. The fervor of his eloquence had made
even Harlan Thornton doubt, sourly, whether a constitution that was
framed before the exigencies of progress were dreamed of should be too
rigidly construed. That was still another point where he and his
grandfather disagreed, and the cogent speech of Linton had been the
cause of further dispute between them. The Duke was disgusted because
his grandson could be so scrupulous that he could not be progressive.
For Harlan the straight path of rectitude was fringed with signs set
there by friends, every sign inscribed "Fool.
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