Now that it was over, now that the tension was broken, Walton experienced a moment of bitter disillusionment. He had had high hopes for his speech, but had he really put it over? He wasn't sure.
He glanced up. Lee Percy stood over him.
"Roy, can I say something?" Percy said diffidently.
"Go ahead," Walton said.
"I don't know how many millions I forked over to put you on the media tonight, but I know one thing—we threw a hell of a lot of money away."
Walton sighed wearily. "Why do you say that?"
"That speech of yours," Percy said, "was the speech of an amateur. You ought to let pros handle the big spiels, Roy."
"I thought you liked the impromptu thing I did when they mobbed that Herschelite. How come no go tonight?"
Percy shook his head. "The speech you made outside the building was different. It had emotion; it had punch! But tonight you didn't come across at all."
"No?"