Free Advise and Consent by Allen Drury Page B

know what we think. We think this appointment could be one of great importance for the world, one which could do great good for the world. But we also think it could cause trouble in the world, and could precipitate difficulties in the world. Now then. It is a question, is it not, of whether it would cause good for the world, or whether it would cause bad for the world, and if the first, and indeed the second also, you understand, whether it would be the position of my government that the good it might cause would be sufficient to counterbalance the bad it might cause. It might, you see, cause both things in one man, you see. Such is the diversity of human nature. And one should not take too firm a position on the basis of human nature, for human nature, our friends in the West to the contrary, is always changing, is it not? And therefore sometimes it is better to ignore human nature and look at the long view of things. Although of course one cannot leave human nature out of account, for it too is important for the world. This is what we think of the nomination, since you ask me, Hal.”
    Senator Fry conceded defeat with a laugh.
    “You damned Indians,” he said genially, “are always using syntax as a weapon. Why don’t you ever say what you mean, right out?”
    “Half the troubles in this world, my friend,” said Krishna Khaleel with sibilant explicitness, “are caused by people saying what they mean right out. You Americans always want to bring things to a head; you always want to make things come to an issue. But heads and issues are not good for the world, my friend. They make people take positions. Positions can be dangerous. Possibly positions are not good for the world. Or possibly they are, of course. Is it not so?”
    “You lost me on the last curve, K.K.,” Senator Fry said dryly. “I fell right out of the bus and I’m going to have to walk home. I’ll tell Washington what you think.”
    “I shall tell Washington myself,” Krishna Khaleel said firmly. “Is there not the party at Dolly’s tonight? I shall be there.”
    “So shall I,” said Hal Fry.
    “A lovely woman, Dolly Harrison,” the Indian Ambassador said thoughtfully. “A little too obvious about her feelings for the good Bob Munson, but very kind of heart, I think.”
    “She’ll catch him yet,” Senator Fry said with a chuckle.
    “A consummation devoutly to be hoped,” K.K. remarked; and added with a twinkle, “There, I have said something right out. Dolly and Bob—I am for it, I approve. The Indian Republic is for it, it approves. The world is for it, it approves. Is it not so?”
    “It is so, O Akbar,” said Hal Fry with a grin.

    “In about another hour,” Bob Munson said, “we’re going to begin to get the reaction on Leffingwell from the country.”
    “You want to dictate a form letter?” Mary Hastings asked.
    “How did you know?” Senator Munson said.
    “I anticipate,” Mary said. “Isn’t that what you pay me for?”
    “I pay you,” said Bob Munson, surveying the dark-eyed, dark-haired, quick-witted forty-six-year-old intelligence that ran his office staff, “to be the best damned administrative assistant on the Hill. And so you are. Take a letter to whom it may concern—Joe Doaks, Susie Soaks, and all the folks—
    “Dear So-and-So, With reference to your letter of present date, I want you to know how much I value your opinion on the President’s nomination of Mr. Leffingwell to be Secretary of State. It is obviously an office of the greatest importance to all of us, and it is only through voluntary expressions of opinion from back home, such as yours, that we in the Senate can make up our minds about it.’ Paragraph. ‘As you know, in my position as Majority Leader, I am to some extent bound to follow the Administration view on most matters, but I consider this so vital that I am, for the time being, reserving final judgment on what I shall ultimately do. Your letter is one which will weigh heavily in