He stopped a moment at the Club, then went on to the State Department.
As he turned the corner near the Secretary's private elevator, the
Secretary himself was on the point of embarking and he waited.
"You want to see me?" he asked.
"Just a moment, Mr. Secretary, since you're here," Harleston responded.
"I came particularly to see Carpenter. There has been a plenty doing in
that matter, but nothing worthy of report to you--except one thing.
Madeline Spencer is in town."
"The devil she is!" exclaimed the Secretary.
"And as beautiful, as fascinating, as sinuous, and as young as ever."
"She must be a vision."
"She is--and an extraordinarily dangerous vision."
"Only to you impressible chaps!" the Secretary confided. "She is not
dangerous to me, be she ever so beautiful, and fascinating, and
sinuous, and young. When will you present me?"
"When do you suggest?" Harleston asked.
"Tomorrow, at four?"
"If I can get the lady, certainly."
"Later she'll get me, you think!" the Secretary laughed.
"If she is so minded she'll get you, I have not the least doubt,"
Harleston shrugged.
"Then here is where you have your doubt resolved into moonshine."
"Very well; it won't be the first time I've had the pleasure of seeing
moonshine.
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