And I was immediately made aware of the intentions of the administration at Washington merely by looking through a window. There were the President and his cabinet and—some others who assist in making up the mind of the statesman.
"Now a dash of crime," said I.
"High or low?" asked Memnon, fingering the push-button alongside of the window.
"The highest you've got," said I.
I shall not describe what I saw. It was not very horrible. It was rather discouraging. It dealt wholly with the errors of what is known as Society. It showed the mistakes of persons for whom I had acquired a feeling of awe. It showed so much that I summoned Memnon to shut the glass off. I was really afraid somebody else might see. And I did not wish to lose my respect for people who were leaders in the highest walks of social life. Still, a great many things that have happened since in high life have not been wholly surprising to me. I have furthermore so ordered my own goings and comings since that time that I have no fear of what the Peeping Toms of Olympus may see. If mankind could only be made to understand that this window of Olympus opens out upon every act of their lives, there might be radical reforms in some quarters where it would do a deal of good, although to the general public there seems to be no need for it.
At this point a waiter put a small wafer about as large as a penny upon the table.
"H'm—what's that, Memnon?" I asked.
"Essence of melon," said he.
"Good, is it?" I queried.