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 *ther attention to her. Big countrymen in Sunday clothes, who wore the red badges of delegates, slapped him on the back, city ward-heelers of checkered lives and garments called him "Len."

There was an odor of perspiration in the room, distinguishable even in the heavy fumes of tobacco. The real leaders, of course, William Handy and the others, were over at the executive mansion, with the governor, completing the final arrangements for his renomination. The governor held the convention in the hollow of his hand.

The woman huddled in her corner until eleven o'clock, and then Gilman, happening into her quarter of the room, asked her what she wanted, listening with official respect for her reply. It was an old story to him. When she told him he smiled a strange smile and turned away. At noon the governor ran the gauntlet of the waiting crowd and gained the sanctuary of his private office. Once there, breathing a sigh of relief, he stood for a moment in one of the tall windows looking out upon the smooth lawns stretching lazily in the sun, and rolling away to the elms surrounding the state house. He was a tall man and strong. If he had a physical fault, it was