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The Deluge by David Graham Phillips
page 38 of 336 (11%)
as the winner of a race wants the medal that belongs to him. I've built
myself up into a rich man, into one of the powers in finance, and I feel
I'm entitled to recognition."

"I don't quite follow you," he said. "I can't see that you'll be either
better or worse for getting into the Travelers."

"No more I shall," replied I. "No more is the winner of the race the better
or the worse for having the medal. But he wants it."

He had a queer expression. I suppose he regarded it as a joke, my attaching
apparently so much importance to a thing he cared nothing about. "You've
always had that sort of thing," said I, "and so you don't appreciate it.
You're like a respectable woman. She can't imagine what all the fuss over
women keeping a good reputation is about. Well, just let her lose it!"

"Perhaps," said he.

"And," I went on, "you can have the rule about the waiting list suspended,
and can move me up and get me in at once."

"We don't do things in quite such a hurry at the Travelers," said he,
laughing. "However, we'll try to comply with your commands."

His generous, cordial offer made me half ashamed of the plot I had
underneath my submission about the coal mines--a plot to get into the coal
combine in order to gather the means to destroy it, and perhaps reconstruct
it with myself in control. I made up my mind that, if he continued to act
squarely, I would alter those plans.

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