His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. ” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile. “This is a very foolish sort of entertainment. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. Between Canton and Hartford two giants had risen, invisible but menacing— Fear and Doubt. There was a man, a boy, and a woman. Tea in the laboratory was a sort of suffragette reception.
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