"Tell us about it!" called the heckler again, and this time there was an angry stir in the audience; Thorn strained to see. It was a student. He was bearded, in blue jeans, probably from the Communist faction. "What do you know about poverty, Thorn?" he taunted. "You'll never have to work a day in your life!"

The audience hissed their resentment at the heckler, some shouting at him, but Thorn raised his hands for calm.

"The young man has something to say. Let's hear him out."

The youth stepped forward and Thorn waited for him to continue. He would let him rant until he was ranted out.

"If you're so concerned about sharing the wealth, why don't you share some of yours?" shouted the boy. "How many millions do you have? Do you know how many people are starving? Do you know what the change you're carrying in your pocket could do? With what you pay your chauffeur you could feed a family in India for 3 month! The grass on your forty-acre-front lawn could feed half the population of Bangladesh! The money you throw away on parties for your child could found a clinic right here in the south end of London! If you're going to urge people to give away their wealth, let's see an example! Don't stand there in your four-hundred-dollar suit and tell us what poverty is about!"

The assault was impassioned. The boy clearly scored. From the audience came a smattering of light applause and it was Thorn's turn to reply.

"Are you through?" asked Thorn.

"What are you worth. Thorn?" shouted the youth. "As much as Rockefeller?"

"Nowhere near."

"When Rockefeller was appointed Vice-President, the papers listed his income as slightly over three hundred million! You know what the slightly over was? Thirty-three million! Not even worth counting! That was his spare change, while half the population of the world died of starvation! Isn't there something obscene here? Does anyone need as much money as that?"

"I am not Mr. Rockefeller .. ."

"The hell you aren't!"

"Will you let me answer, please?"

"One child! One starving child! Do something for just one starving child! Then we'll believe you! Just reach out with your own hand, not your mouth, with your hand, and extend it to one starving child!"

"Perhaps I've done that," replied Thorn quietly.

"Where is he, then?" demanded the boy. "Who's the child? Who've you saved, Thorn? Who are you trying to save?"

"Certain of us have responsibilities that extend beyond one starving child."

"You can't save the world, Thorn, until you reach out for that first starving child."

The audience was with the heckler now. He was responded to with a firm and sudden applause.

"You have me at a disadvantage," said Thorn evenly. "You stand in the dark and hurl invective . . ."

"Then turn on the lights, I'll hurl it louder!"