be done
if the people would but lift their eyes, look into one another's faces,
see the wrong and the injustice that was all around them, and swear that
they would never rest till the pain and the terror had been driven from
the land. She wanted soldiers--men and women who would forget their own
sweet selves, not counting their own loss, thinking of the greater gain;
as in times of war and revolution, when men gave even their lives gladly
for a dream, for a hope--

Without warning he switched on the electric lamp that stood upon the
desk, causing her to draw back with a start.

"All right," he said. "Go ahead. You shall have your tub, and a weekly
audience of a million readers for as long as you can keep them
interested. Up with anything you like, and down with everything you
don't. Be careful not to land me in a libel suit. Call the whole Bench
of Bishops hypocrites, and all the ground landlords thieves, if you will:
but don't mention names. And don't get me into trouble with the police.
Beyond that, I shan't interfere with you."

She was about to speak.

"One stipulation," he went on, "that every article is headed with your
photograph."

He read the sudden dismay in her eyes.

"How else do you think you are going to attract their attention?" he
asked her. "By your eloquence! Hundreds of men and women as eloquent as
you could ever be are shouting to them every day. Who takes any notice
of them? Why should they listen any the more to you--another cranky
highbrow: some old maid, most likely, with a bony throat and a beaky
nose. If Woman is going to come into the fight she will have to use her
own weapons. If she is prepared to do that she'll make things hum with a
vengeance. She's the biggest force going, if she only knew it."

He had risen and was pacing the room.

"The advertiser has found that out, and is showing the way." He snatched
at an illustrated magazine, fresh from the press, that had been placed
upon his desk, and opened it at the first page. "Johnson's Blacking," he
read out, "advertised by a dainty little minx, showing her ankles. Who's
going to stop for a moment to read about somebody's blacking? If a saucy
little minx isn't there to trip him up with her ankles!"

He turned another page. "Do you suffer from gout? Classical lady
preparing to take a bath and very nearly ready. The old Johnny in the
train stops to look at her. Reads the advertisement because she seems to
want