Throughout, the visitor's pensive eyes kept turning from the creature to
the creator, until, back in the trim quietude of his office, famed as
the only orderly working-room of journalism, she delivered her wondering
question:
"And _you_ have made all this, Ban?"
"At least I've remade it."
She shook her head. "No; as I told you before, I can't see you in it."
"You mean, it doesn't express me. It isn't meant to.'
"Whom does it express, then? Mr. Marrineal?"
"No. It isn't an expression at all in that sense. It's a--a response. A
response to the demand of hundreds of thousands of people who have never
had a newspaper made for them before."
"An echo of _vox populi_? Does that excuse its sins?"
"I'm not putting it forth as an excuse. Is it really sins or only bad
taste that offends you?"
"Clever, Ban. And true in a measure. But insincerity is more than bad
taste. It's one of the primal sins."
"You find The Patriot insincere?"
"Can I find it anything else, knowing you?"
"Ah, there you go wrong again, Miss Camilla. As an expression of my
ideals, the news part of the paper would be insincere. I don't like it
much better than you do. But I endure it; yes, I'll be frank and admit
that I even encourage it, because it gives me wider scope for the things
I want to say.
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