Senator Corson arrived at a decision which he did not confide to anybody. He spoke to Daunt and the two of them went to the divan and dragged on the overcoats which they had discarded when Rellihan's obstinacy had been found to be unassailable.
Lana, studying the faces of the men, drew her furs about her.
"The car is waiting near the west portico, father," she ventured to say.
Corson took his time about buttoning his coat. Lana had her heritage of dark eyes from her father; his wrath had settled into cold malevolence and his eyes above his white cheeks were not pleasant objects. He surveyed the various persons in the room. He took his time in that process, too!
"For the present—for now—for to-night," he said, quietly, elaborating his mention of the moment with significance, "we seem to have cleaned up all the business before us. In view of that interregnum, Governor, of which you have been so kindly reminded, I suppose you feel that you can go to your hotel and rest for the remainder of the night so as to be in good trim for the inaugural ceremonies. Allow me to offer you a lift in my car."
The Governor trudged toward, a massive wardrobe in a corner of the chamber.
"I do not presume to offer you the convenience of my car, Mayor Morrison," the Senator went on.
"I take it that your recent oath as supreme Executive during the aforesaid interregnum obliges you to stay on the job. Ah—er—do we require a countersign in order to get out of the building?"
The mayor was walking toward the private door. "No, sir!" he said, mildly.
"I hope you hear that, Governor North! I was compelled to give countersigns to your soldiers—quite emphatic countersigns. The new regime is to be complimented."