"I don't see how you could add anything!" retorted the Senator with venom.
He continued his promenade.
Again the silence in the room became oppressive.
Morrison was scrutinizing Governor North with especial intentness.
His Excellency was giving unmistakable evidence that he was surcharged. He was working his elbows and was whispering to himself with a fizzling sound. He had turned his back on Lana Corson as if he were resolved to ignore the fact of her presence.
Stewart, exhibiting deference while a United States Senator was pondering, strolled leisurely across the room to North and fondled the lapel of the Governor's coat. "I beg your pardon, and I hope you'll excuse curiosity in a chap who makes cloth, Governor. But this is as fine a piece of worsted as I've seen in many a day."
North lifted his arm as if to knock the presumptuous hand away; but Stewart slowly clenched his fist, holding the fabric in his close clutch, exerting a strength that dominated the man upon whom his hold was fastened. The mayor went on in an undertone, as if anxious to show additional deference in the presence of the senatorial ponderings. "Governor, petty politics haven't been allowed to make a bad mess of what has been turned into an open proposition. Now don't allow your tongue to make a mess of this new development as it stands right now. Humor Miss Corson's notions! And let me tell you! My policemen are going to stay on the job until after the legislature assembles."
"Morrison, you're a coward!" grated North. "You brought Corson's girl here so that you can sneak behind her petticoats."
Stewart released his hold, clapped His Excellency on the shoulder, raised his voice, and cried, heartily:
"Thank you. Governor! You're right. You have an excellent idea of a piece of goods, yourself."