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The Cab of the Sleeping Horse by John Reed Scott
page 55 of 295 (18%)



V

ANOTHER WOMAN


Harleston walked down Sixteenth Street--the Avenue of the Presidents, if
you have time either to say it or write it. The Secretary of State
resided on it, and, as chance had it, he was descending the front steps
as Harleston came along.

Now the Secretary was duly impressed with all the dignity of his
official position, and he rarely failed to pull it on the ordinary
individual--cockey would be about the proper term. In Harleston,
however, he recognized an unusual personage; one to whom the Department
was wont to turn when all others had failed in its diplomatic problems;
who had some wealth and an absolutely secure social position; who
accepted no pecuniary recompense for his service, doing it all for pure
amusement, and because his government requested it.

"It's too fine a day to ride to the Department," said the Secretary.
"It's much too fine, really, to go anywhere except to the Rataplan and
play golf."

Harleston agreed.

"I'll take you on at four o'clock," the Secretary suggested.

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