"
"Shrewd Mr. Teerswell," remarked Miss Wynn, sagely.
"Shrewd Mr. Stillings," the Senator corrected; "but perhaps too shrewd.
Suppose Mr. Alwyn should take this occasion to make a thorough defence
of the party?"
"But--will he?"
"That's where you come in," Senator Smith pointed out, rising, "and the
real reason of this interview. We're depending on you to pull the party
out of an awkward hole," and he shook hands with his caller.
Miss Wynn walked slowly up Pennsylvania Avenue with a smile on her face.
"I did not give him the credit," she declared, repeating it; "I did not
give him the credit. Here I was, playing an alluring game on the side,
and my dear Tom transforms it into a struggle for bread and butter; for
of course, if the Board of Education goes, I lose my place." She lifted
her head and stared along the avenue.
A bitterness dawned in her eyes. The whole street was a living insult to
her. Here she was, an American girl by birth and breeding, a daughter of
citizens who had fought and bled and worked for a dozen generations on
this soil; yet if she stepped into this hotel to rest, even with full
purse, she would be politely refused accommodation. Should she attempt
to go into this picture show she would be denied entrance. She was
thirsty with the walk; but at yonder fountain the clerk would roughly
refuse to serve her.
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