Lund was stung. If there was one thing he feared it was the thing he had seen too often in his own profession, the self-righteousness that could creep up on a man like fat or baldness, greasing the mind and clouding the vision and making a good man over into something almost detestable. In an unappreciated profession it was so easy to take comfort and justification from one’s own sense of blamelessness. A hot retort jumped into his mind, but he held it back, glaring across the table into Joe’s narrowed eyes. He saw the amusement there, and after a moment he could laugh. He was being baited
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