“Of course you’ll have to see Sam Porter, but I’ll begin by bringing Senator Burns—familiarly known as Bull Burns.”
“I’ve read of him so often in the newspapers,” she said. “It would be an experience.”
Vernon went over to Burns’s seat and touched him on the shoulder.
“Come on,” he said in a tone of command, speaking for once from the altitude of his social superiority. And for once he was successful. The burly fellow from the First District stood up and looked inquiringly.
“Come with me,” Vernon said; “there’s a Chicago lawyer back here who wants to see you.”
Burns followed and an instant later Vernon halted before Miss Greene. The other men, who had quickly returned to her side, made way, and Vernon said:
“Miss Greene, may I present Senator Burns, of the First District?”
Miss Greene smiled on the big saloon-keeper, who instantly flamed with embarrassment. She gave him her hand, and he took it in his fat palm, carefully, lest he crush it.
“I am delighted to meet Senator Burns; I’ve heard of you so often,” she said, looking up at him. “And do you know I count it a privilege to meet one of your acknowledged influence in our state’s affairs?”
Vernon stood back, delighted beyond measure with the confusion into which Burns for once had been betrayed. The senator from the First District was struggling for some word to say, and at last he broke out with: