Ben was a good-looking young man, but it was his expression—at once illuminated and determined—that made him unusual. And the effect of his night and morning had been to intensify this, so that now, as he stood a moment in the doorway, he was a very attractive and compelling figure. “I came to see my brother, Mr. Cord,” he said, simply, “but I hear he’s not here any more. If I could speak to you alone for a few minutes—” He glanced at Eddie, whom he instantly recognized as the man who had not known how to talk to the woman in the world best worth talking to. “Oh, you may speak before Mr. Verriman,” said Cord. “He knows the situation—knows your brother—knows my children—knows about you. In fact, we were just speaking about your paper when you came in. However, I must tell you that Mr. Verriman doesn’t approve of _Liberty_. At least, I believe I understood you right, Eddie.” And Mr. Cord, having thus assured himself a few minutes to regain his poise, leaned back comfortably in his chair. “What’s wrong with the paper, Mr. Verriman?” said Ben, pleasantly. Eddie did not love the adventure of mental combat, but he was no coward. “It seems to me,” he said, “that it preaches such radical changes in our government that it is seditious. To be frank, Mr. Moreton, I think the government ought to suppress it.” “But we don’t break the law. The government can’t suppress us.” “Then the laws ought to be changed so that it can.” “That’s all we advocate, Mr. Verriman, the changing of the law. It isn’t any more seditious for me to say it than for you to, is it?” Of course in Eddie’s opinion it was—much, much more seditious. Only somehow it was a difficult point to make clear, if a person was so wrongheaded he couldn’t see it for himself. The point was that he, Eddie, was right in wanting the laws changed and Moreton was wrong. Anyone, it seemed to Eddie, would agree to that, unless he happened to agree with Moreton beforehand, and those were just the people who ought to be deported, imprisoned, or even perhaps in rare instances, as examples, strung up to lamp-posts. Only each time he tried to put these very natural opinions in words, they kept sounding wrong and tyrannical and narrow—qualities which Eddie knew he was entirely without. In order to counteract this effect, he tried at first to speak very temperately and calmly, but, unhappily, this only had the effect of making him sound patronizing to Ben’s ears.