Improvement work----"
"Mrs. Livingston was asking for you and Annette, Senator," said Garman.
Payne nearly started at the change in his tone. It was a tone of
command, of dismissal, and to Roger's astonishment Annette and her
father obeyed. Garman strolled into the pergola and dropped into a
chair, a huge, oppressive figure in white silk. Lazily and from
beneath the half-closed heavy lids his eyes watched Annette as she
walked toward the house. With an air of playful possession he followed
the play of her young body in motion, the quick, strong flip of her
foot upon the hard sand of the path, the firmness of her limbs, the
sway of her rounded torso, the poise of her neck and head. A smile
lifted his mustache, revealing the thick red mouth beneath. Indolently
he breathed through half-parted lips.
"Payne," he said thickly, "there goes Love. There goes the dream of
all young fools. Aren't you dreaming a little yourself, Payne, eh?--I
see you are. You have looked upon the dream in the flesh, and hope has
been born in your young, manly bosom. Hope? No; belief. Belief in
the realization of ideals. What damn fools all you young cubs are, to
be sure!"
"Well," said Roger calmly, "I like that. I like to have a man ask me
to be his guest and try to make things pleasant for me by calling me a
damn fool.
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