The little old white-haired man at the head table looked embarrassed, his eyebrows arched with a sort of "Ain't this a hell of a thing?" curve. He wore the old familiar black suit, black string tie knotted carelessly in a bow. His hair was neatly plastered down, his spectacles freshly shined.
He passed up the Martinis and Manhattans before the dinner. Senator George W. Norris does not drink. The old man seemed mystified that so many men of consequence should turn out to give him a testimonial dinner just before he left the Senate,...
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