“Do you play golf?” she asked Dilling.
“Oh, I’ve handled the clubs once or twice. But I won’t have any time to devote to the game.”
“You must make time. It will do you a world of good. All play and no work will make you an ideal politician,” she teased.
“You will come out with us to dinner, the first night we go?”
“Oh, no!” she cried. “You must take someone infinitely more distinguished. You must shine and let your light be seen before men. If I might make a suggestion, give a very exclusive dinner party and invite the Chief.”
“But you must come, too!”
“We’ll see. In the meantime, hadn’t we better tackle this formidable mail? It seems to grow larger every morning.”
Towards the middle of the afternoon, a spare, thin-lipped little man came into the room.
“Howdy, Raymond?” he greeted. “Been tryin’ to run you down to your hole this last half hour. Got kinder twisted in this big buildin’.”