¶In evening clothes, immaculately dressed, an elderly gentleman stepped over the White House threshold. Yes, it was the same place. It was some time since he had frequented its portals or had arrived there as a dinner guest. In those days, he had been welcomed by a different host a taller man of eloquent tongue, equally slender, with face even more austere, with clearsome said cold eyes. The entering guest paused only a moment on the threshold. Then Bernard M. Baruch, Chairman of the one-time War Industries Board, close friend of...
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