“I think I have begun to envy Franklin.” Adams opened his eyes. “You?” Robinson spoke slowly, groping for the words. “I can issue an order or follow one. I can have a man’s obedience. But to earn his devotion . . . I do not know how to do that. Franklin endears himself to people who have never met him. They worry for him and pray for his safe return. They write poems and songs for him.” He stopped and puffed once more on his pipe. “I find that extraordinary. How on earth does he get them to do that?” Adams was unsure whether he was asleep or awake. The words were in his mind, on his tongue.
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