"Certainly."

"Well, we named our son Dunbar. He's a good enough boy. He has his share of shortcomings, but on the whole he's a pretty good boy. He works for the ROCC. Do you know what the ROCC is?"

Wolfe nodded. "The Rights of Citizens Committee. I have sent them small contributions."

"Why?"

A corner of Wolfe's mouth went up. "Come, Mr. Whipple. Another speech to quote?"

"I could use one, or my people could. My son could. He's pretty good at a speech. But he's what I-he's the problem, or rather, he's in the problem. He has got involved with a white girl and he's going to marry her, and I can't talk him out of it. So I need help."

Wolfe made a face. "Not mine," he said emphatically.

Whipple shook his head. "Not to talk to him. To find out what's wrong with her."

"Except for the innate and universal flaws of her sex, there may be nothing wrong with her."

"But obviously there is." His brows were up. "She is-not speaking as an anthropologist-of good family. She is young, attractive, and financially independent. For her to marry a Negro is absurd. Obviously-"

"My dear sir. Instead of another speech I could quote for an hour. Benjamin Franklin: 'A man in a passion rides a wild horse.' Or, by courtesy, a woman. An ancient Latin proverb: '_Ex visu amor._' Loving comes by looking. Pfui. Nothing in nature is absurd, though much is deplorable."

"That's irrelevant."

"Indeed?"

"Yes." Whipple smiled.