He continued his promenade.
Again the silence in the room became oppressive.
Morrison was scrutinizing Governor North with especial intentness.
His Excellency was giving unmistakable evidence that he was surcharged. He
was working his elbows and was whispering to himself with a fizzling
sound. He had turned his back on Lana Corson as if he were resolved to
ignore the fact of her presence.
Stewart, exhibiting deference while a United States Senator was pondering,
strolled leisurely across the room to North and fondled the lapel of the
Governor's coat. "I beg your pardon, and I hope you'll excuse curiosity in
a chap who makes cloth, Governor. But this is as fine a piece of worsted
as I've seen in many a day."
North lifted his arm as if to knock the presumptuous hand away; but
Stewart slowly clenched his fist, holding the fabric in his close clutch,
exerting a strength that dominated the man upon whom his hold was
fastened. The mayor went on in an undertone, as if anxious to show
additional deference in the presence of the senatorial ponderings.
"Governor, petty politics haven't been allowed to make a bad mess of what
has been turned into an open proposition.
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