"George. Splendid to see you. I'd heard you were out of uniform."

"And back at Lehigh Station, managing the Hazard works. Do you have a moment? I'd like to speak to you as one Republican to another."

"Surely," Stevens said. A curtain dropped over his dark blue eyes. George had seen this happen before with the eyes of politicians put on guard.

"I just want to say that I'm in favor of giving Mr. Johnson's program a chance."

Stevens pursed his lips. "I understand the reason for your concern. I know you have friends down in Carolina."

God, the man had a way of setting you off with his righteousness. George wished he was five inches taller, so he wouldn't have to look up. "Yes, that's right. My best friend's people; my friend didn't survive the war. I must say in defense of the family that I don't consider them aristocrats. Or criminals —"

"They are both if they held blacks in bondage."

"Thad, please let me finish."

"Yes, certainly." Stevens was no longer friendly.

"A few years ago, I believed that overzealous politicians on both sides had provoked the war, unnecessarily. Year after year, I rethought the question, and I decided I was wrong. Terrible as it was, the war had to be fought. Gradual peaceful emancipation would never have worked. Those with vested interests in slavery would have kept it going."

"Quite right. With their cooperation and encouragement, the blackbirders imported and sold slaves from Cuba and the Indies long after Congress outlawed the trade in 1807."

"I'm more interested in this moment. The war's over, and there must never be another one. The cost to life and property is too high. War defeats every attempt at material progress."

"Ah, there it is," Stevens said with a frosty smile. "The businessman's new creed. I am well aware of this tide of economic pacifism in the North. I'll have nothing to do with it."