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Arthur Duryea, a young, handsome man, came to meet his father for the first time in twenty years. As he strode into the hotel lobby -- long strides which had the spring of elastic in them -- idle eyes lifted to appraise him, for he was an impressive figure, somehow grim with exaltation.
The desk clerk looked up with his habitual smile of expectation; how-do-you-do-Mr.-so-and-so, and his fingers strayed to the green fountain pen which stood in a holder on the desk. He looked uncertain -- he looked, perhaps, afraid. With good cause.
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Arthur Duryea, a young, handsome man, came to meet his father for the first time in twenty years. As he strode into the hotel lobby -- long strides which had the spring of elastic in them -- idle eyes lifted to appraise him, for he was an impressive figure, somehow grim with exaltation.
The desk clerk looked up with his habitual smile of expectation; how-do-you-do-Mr.-so-and-so, and his fingers strayed to the green fountain pen which stood in a holder on the desk. He looked uncertain -- he looked, perhaps, afraid. With good cause.
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