Reuther was the UAW's chief lobbyist and a nephew of Walter Reuther, the union's legendary president during the 1950s and 1960s.
But she forgot gratitude and every lesser emotion in watching Reuther's expression as the two came up the path.
But her purpose had been accomplished, or would be when once this letter reached Reuther.
He felt the shame of it himself; also the folly of his own methods and of the part he had allowed Reuther to play.
There was a room on this upper floor into which neither she nor Reuther had ever stepped.
But Reuther had shrunk before it more than once—the gentle Reuther, who was the refined, the etherealised picture of himself.
Reuther began to notice her pallor, and the judge to look grave.
Reuther betrays no knowledge of you or of your habits, and has never expressed but one curiosity in your regard.
There was but one person whose disgrace could consume Reuther.
It was not until they were well upon the road back that Reuther ventured to speak of Oliver.