Suspension by Richard E. Crabbe Page B

have time tomorrow.”
    â€œI suppose you’re right. It’s easier to go to the Astor Library than to get it from Rensselaer Polytechnic; that’s the only other place I know of that has it.”
    â€œIt’s just so frustrating,” Emily said, clicking her tongue. “A city the size of New York needs a real public library, not just one, but dozens. I’m afraid that until the ponderous Mayor Edson gets his ponderous—”
    â€œBe kind, dear,” Wash admonished.
    Emily smiled. “—personage before the city council and fights for it, we won’t have it. As for Brooklyn, that could take decades.”
    â€œIt’s a worthy cause, Em. Knowledge is the key to a better life.” Nobody knew that better than Roebling, whose father had set a rigid Germanic example of devotion to higher learning and hard work.
    â€œUnfortunately, I don’t think Tammany Hall is too interested in libraries unless there’s something in it for them. Look at the Tweed courthouse; thirteen million dollars! The whole bridge won’t cost that much. Plenty of scoundrels got rich off that project. Tweed was just the tip of the iceberg,” Washington said bitterly.
    â€œDear, there’s no point getting upset about it. You’ll just start one of your terrible headaches.”
    â€œYou’re right, as usual,” Wash conceded. “It’s just that when I think of how Tweed almost sank the bridge too, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
    â€œThose days, nothing got done without Tweed’s hand in it, at least not in New York,” Emily said, remembering how hard it had been to understand at the time. “Henry brought him in only because he had to.” There had been no other way.
    â€œIt’s true,” Wash admitted. “The bond issue would never have gotten out of committee. It still burns me that Bill had to take a ferry across the river with a bag full of money to pay off the aldermen.” Wash almost spat at the recollection.

    Emily, who was in some ways more practical, just smiled, saying, “Not a bad investment really. It paid big dividends for Bill Kingsley over the years. Sixty thousand dollars is a lot of money by any standard, but it’s been a good deal all around.” It was far more than a “good deal,” as they both knew. As general contractor, Kingsley had made a fortune on the bridge.
    Wash grunted. “And for Tweed too, for a while. Sitting on our executive committee like a three-hundred-pound leech, looking to suck the bridge dry.” Roebling shook his head scornfully.
    â€œWell, he’s gone now, and good riddance,” Emily said for both of them.
    â€œSeconded, my dear!” he said with a small laugh. “By the way, you know, I’ve still got correspondence to get out to Martin and Hildenbrand about the specs for the supports on the train tracks, the placement of the light stanchions, and half a dozen other things.”
    Emily looked at her husband with more than a little exasperation. “Wash, the bridge is almost done. It’s two-thirty in the afternoon. I think you can spare my help till later.” Emily rarely denied her husband anything. After all the years of work, she had only the slightest regret at denying him now. “Surely it can wait, darling, and if I tarry another second, I’ll be late for my meeting with Mr. Saunders, the librarian.” She came to him, her skirts rustling like a spring breeze through the treetops. She kissed him lightly on the forehead. “I won’t be late, and don’t worry, we’ll do our correspondence first thing in the morning.” She gave her husband a disarming smile. “I’ll deliver it myself.”
    Wash smiled up at her from his seat at his desk. “As usual, my dear, you are very persuasive. I probably won’t be up when you get back. It’s been a long day. I may play a bit though. Could you tell