As the door opened, the much-tried George Remington had a glimpse of that pleasing industrial unit, Betty Sheridan, searching through the file for the copy of the letter to the Cummunipaw Steel Works, which he had recently demanded to see. He pressed the buzzer imperiously, and Betty responded with duteous haste. He pointed through the window to the crowd in front of McMonigal's block. "Perhaps," he said, with what seemed to him Spartan self-restraint, "_you_ can explain the meaning of that scene." Betty looked out with an air of intelligent interest. "Oh yes!" she said vivaciously. "I think I can. It's a Voiceless Speech." "A voice l--" George's own face was a voiceless speech as he repeated two syllables of his stenographer's explanation. "Yes. Don't you know about voiceless speeches? It's antiquated to try to run any sort of a campaign without them nowadays." "Perhaps you also know who that--female--" again George's power of utterance failed him. Betty came closer to the window and peered out. "It's Frances Herrington who is turning the leaves now," she said amiably. "I know her by that ducky toque." "Frances Herrington! What Harvey Herrington is thinking of to allow----" George's emotion constrained him to broken utterance. "And we're dining there tonight! She has no sense of the decencies--the--the--the hospitality of existence. We won't go--I'll telephone Genevieve----" "Fie, fie Georgie!" observed Betty. "Why be personal over a mere detail of a political campaign?" But before George could tell her why his indignation against his prospective hostess was impersonal and unemotional, the long figure of Mr. Doolittle again projected itself upon the scene. Betty effaced herself, gliding from the inner office, and George turned a look of inquiry upon his manager. "Well?" the monosyllable had all the force of profanity. "Well, the women, durn them, have brought suffrage into your campaign." "How?" "How? They've got a list of every blamed law on the statute books relating to women and children, and they're asking on that sheet of leaves over there, if you mean to proceed against all who are breaking those laws here in Whitewater County. And right opposite your own office! It's--it's damn smart. You ought to have got that Herrington woman on your committee." "It's indelicate, unwomanly, indecent. It shows into what unsexed degradation politics will drag woman. But I'm relieved that that's all they're asking. Of course, I shall enforce the law for the protection of every class in our community with all the power of the----" "Oh, shucks! There's nobody here but me--you needn't unfurl Old Glory," counseled Mr. Doolittle, a trifle impatiently. "They're asking real questions, not blowing off hot-air. Oh, I say, who owns McMonigal's block since the old man died? We'll have the owner stop this circus. That's the first thing to do." "I'll telephone Allen. He'll know."