But above and beyond everything else, there were the great mural
paintings on the west wall of the House side, above the grand marble
staircase.
"_Westward the Course of Empire takes its way--!_"
Oh, those pioneers with their faces turned towards the Golden West!
The tired women and the bronzed men! Not one of them without that
eager look of hope, of a dream realized as the land of Promise looms
ahead!
Derry had often talked that picture over with his mother. "It was such
men, Derry, who made our country--men unafraid--North, South, East and
West, it was these who helped to shape the Nation's destiny, as we must
help to shape it for those who come after us."
It was in front of this picture that he was to meet Jean. He had
wanted to share with her the inspiration of it.
She was late, and he waited, leaning on the marble rail which
overlooked the stairway. People were going up and down passing the
picture, but not seeing it, their pulses calm, their blood cold. The
doors of the elevators opened and shut, women came and went in velvet
and fur, laughing. Men followed them, laughing, and the picture was
not for them.
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