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CHAPTER X
AT THE CLUB DE VINGT
The large building of the popular Club de Vingt, or as one
Washingtonian put it, the "Club De Vin," which had sprung into
existence in the National Capital during the war, was ablaze with
light and Benjamin Clymer, sitting at a small table in one corner
of the dining-room, wished most heartily that it had been less
crowded. Many dinner-parties were being given that night, and
it was only by dint of perseverance and a Treasury note that he
had finally induced the head waiter to put in an extra table for
him and his guest, Harry Kent. Kent had been very late and, to
add to his short-comings, had been silent, not to say morose,
during dinner. Clymer heaved a sigh of relief when the table was
cleared and coffee and cigars placed before them.
Kent roused himself from his abstraction. "We cannot talk here,"
he said, looking at the gay diners who surrounded them. "And I
have several important matters to discuss with you, Mr. Clymer."
His remark was overheard by their waiter, and he stopped pouring
out Kent's coffee.
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