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The death of Wilson was broken to his wife as feelingly as might be by Henry. For a moment the poor woman was paralysed, and then gave vent to a flood of tears of a character so strange, that we shall not pause to analyse it here.
President Wilson was frankly uncertain of reelection and embarrassed by the feeling that any determination he made of a policy toward Germany might be overturned by his successful opponent. So American domestic politics perceptibly intruded at this stage in the country's foreign policy. In fact, that policy was practically in suspension.
"Up," cried Wilson, snatching him to his feet. "Lead the way or I shoot." He placed the cold muzzle of his revolver against the nape of the fellow's neck and drew a shriek from him. "No! No! Do not shoot! But do not go there!" "Not another word. On, quickly!" "I do not know where, I swear I do not know, signor!" But hearing the sharp click of the weapon as Wilson cocked it, he led the way.
The secretary of the company was, at that moment, doing duty in another part of the room, as president of The North American Townsite & Irrigation Company, consequently Houston did not meet him until later. As Messrs. Wilson and Blaisdell were just then engaged with a customer, they begged Mr.
Wilson Keen was chief of the Secret Service Bureau in the Treasury Department, and, as the depositary of all secrets, was often called upon for assistance which he was very good-natured in furnishing to senators, especially if they were likely to be Secretaries of the Treasury. This note despatched, Mr.
And then the day that Scott had been so eagerly looking forward to arrived, and at ten o'clock on the morning of November 2, he, Shackleton and Wilson, amidst the wild cheers of their comrades, started on the southern journey.
Wilson Barrett, the captain's unfathomable ignorance of the Gospels, Isaiah and the Psalms startled even me; but on the other hand he had an intimate acquaintance with a number of stories to be found only in the Apocrypha, with which he had thoughtfully provided himself. To gratify my curiosity he read me the tale of Susanna and the Elders.
The ice, therefore, was somewhat thin in parts, but Boghos Pasha skated over it gracefully. His description of the Armenian massacres was thrilling. Altogether his exposé was a masterpiece, and was appreciated by Mr. Wilson and M. Clemenceau.
Then they both watched Wilson coming down the promenade with Laura Temple, whose happy face was turned towards her lover with a glow of trust and confidence upon it that no one could mistake: and when he looked at her, his rather coarse-featured, harsh face was softened a little, as if irradiated by that glow.
The liberal papers, like the largest paper of Berlin, the Tageblatt, edited by Theodor Wolff, while not violently against America, were not favourable. But the articles in the Conservative papers and even some of the organs of the Catholic Party invariably breathed hatred against everything American. In the Reichstag, America and President Wilson were often attacked and never defended.
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