The Deluge by David Graham Phillips
page 38 of 336 (11%)
page 38 of 336 (11%)
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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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