But I want to tell you now, that I considered it an intrusion
upon my prerogatives."
"Have you told the President so?" asked Enoch.
"The President did not make the tour," replied Fowler.
"Just why," Enoch sipped his cup of tea calmly, "did you choose this
occasion to tell me of your resentment?"
"Because," replied Fowler, in a voice tense with repressed anger, "it
is my express purpose never to set foot in your office again, nor to
permit you to appear in mine. When we are forced to meet, we will meet
on neutral ground."
"Well," said Enoch mildly, "that's perfectly agreeable to me. But,
excepting on cabinet days, why meet at all?"
"You are agreed that it shall be war between us, then?" demanded Fowler
eagerly.
"Oh, quite so! Only not exactly the kind of war you think it will be,
Mr. Secretary!" said Enoch, and he walked calmly back to the tea table
for his second cup.
He stayed for some time longer, chatting with different people, taking
his leave after the Secretary of State had driven away. Then he went
home, thoughtfully, to prepare for the President's dinner.
The chief executive was a remarkable host, tactful, resourceful, and
witty. The dinner was devoted entirely at first to Juan Cadiz and his
wonderful stories of Aztec gods and of bullfighting.
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