Sentiment. Sentiment. The question is too vast and complicated, and you cannot understand. No woman can understand. That is why you run to sentiment. That is what is the matter with this Knox--sentiment. You can't run a government of ninety millions of people on sentiment, nor on abstract ideas of justice and right. {Margaret} But if you eliminate justice and right, what remains? {Starkweather} This is a practical world, and it must be managed by practical men--by thinkers, not by near-thinkers whose heads are addled with the half-digested ideas of the French Encyclopedists and Revolutionists of a century and a half ago. (_Margaret shows signs of impatience--she is not particularly perturbed by this passage-at-arms with her father, and is anxious to get off her street things._) Don't forget, my daughter, that your father knows the books as well as any cow college graduate from Oregon. I, too, in my student days, dabbled in theories of universal happiness and righteousness, saw my vision and dreamed my dream. I did not know then the weakness, and frailty, and grossness of the human clay. But I grew out of that and into a man. Some men never grow out of that stage. That is what is the trouble with Knox. He is still a dreamer, and a dangerous one. (_He pauses a moment, and then his thin lips shut grimly. But he has just about shot his bolt._) {Margaret} What do you mean? {Starkweather} He has let himself in to give a speech to-morrow, wherein he will be called upon to deliver the proofs of all the lurid charges he has made against the Administration--against us, the stewards of wealth if you please. He will be unable to deliver the proofs, and the nation will laugh. And that will be the political end of Mr. Ali Baba and his dream. {Margaret} It is a beautiful dream. Were there more like him the dream would come true. After all, it is the dreamers that build and that never die. Perhaps you will find that he is not so easily to be destroyed. But I can't stay and argue with you, father. I simply must go and get my things off. (_To Connie._) You'll have to receive, dear. I'll be right back. (_Julius Rutland enters. Margaret advances to meet him, shaking his hand._) You must forgive me for deserting for a moment. {Rutland} (_Greeting the others._) A family council, I see. {Margaret} (_On way to exit at rear._) No; a discussion on dreams and dreamers. I leave you to bear my part. {Rutland} (_Bowing._) With pleasure. The dreamers are the true architects. But--a--what is the dream and who is the dreamer? {Margaret} (_Pausing in the doorway._) The dream of social justice, of fair play and a square deal to everybody. The dreamer--Mr. Knox. (_Rutland is so patently irritated, that Margaret lingers in the doorway to enjoy._) {Rutland} That man! He has insulted and reviled the Church--my calling. He-- {Connie}