Thorn's speech to the businessmen was at the Mayfair Hotel; by seven o'clock the convention room was filled to capacity. He had told his aides he wanted press coverage, so they had planted an item in the afternoon papers, and now people were being turned away at the door. There were not only the expected attendees, but plenty of reporters as well, even a group of street people who were allowed to stand at the back. The Communist party had taken a keen interest in Thorn, twice sending representatives to heckle and interrupt when he had spoken outdoors, and he hoped they would not be there tonight.

As he strode to the lectern, Thorn noticed, crouched among a small group of photographers, the one whose camera he had broken in front of the Embassy. The photographer smiled at him, holding up a new camera, and Thorn returned the smile, appreciative of the peace-making gesture. Then he waited for the hall to fall silent, and launched into his speech. He spoke of the world economic structure and the importance of the Common Market. In any society, he said, even prehistoric, the marketplace was the common ground, the equalizer of wealth, the melding place of disparate cultures. When one needs to buy, and the other needs to sell, we have the basic components of peace. When one needs to buy and the other refuses to sell, we have taken the first step toward war. He spoke of the community of mankind, the need to recognize that we are brethren, sharing an earth whose resources were meant for all.

"We are caught together," he said, quoting Henry Beston, "in the net of life and time. We are fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth."

It was an inspiring speech, and the audience hung on every word. The discourse turned toward political turmoil and its relationship to economy, Thorn singling out the faces of the Arabs in the audience and speaking directly to them.

"We can well understand the relationship of turmoil to poverty," he said, "but we must also be mindful that civilizations have been toppled by grievances born of too much luxury\"

Thorn was in high gear now, and from a position at his feet, Jennings the photographer focused tight on his face and began snapping photos.

"It is a sad and ironic truth," continued Thorn, "dating as far back as King Solomon's time in Egypt, that those born to wealth and position . . ."

"You should know something about that!" shouted a voice from the back. And Thorn paused, squinting into the darkness of the auditorium. The voice did not come again and Thorn continued.

". . . dating as far back as the Pharaohs' time in Egypt, we find that those born to wealth and position . . ."