“A(c)h!” said Robert Wanser. “I have not assumed to criticize.”
“I’m asking for information. That’s the only way I can make the paper better. By finding out what people think of it.”
“A(c)h, yes! There is much to commend in your paper. Much! But it is not always quite kindly, is it? Not quite kindly.”
“Probably not. What have you got in mind?”
“Nothing in particular,” disclaimed the banker. “I feel that in our complicated system there is room for all classes of thought, and that all of us who are, in a sense, leaders should set the example of a broad tolerance. The imputation of unworthy motives, for example, can do nothing but harm. A community such as this should be a brotherhood, all working for the common good of the town. Don’t you agree with me, Mr. Robson?”
To agree with so pious a banality would have been easy; was, in fact, almost a requirement of politeness. But Jeremy was wondering what lay behind all these words. “I don’t know,” he said. “It sounds all right. But I don’t get your real meaning.”
Mr. Wanser hastily disclaimed any real meaning, and the interview proceeded in a mist of steamy generalities contributed by the banker, of which one alone impressed the editor as embodying the kernel of a thought.
“You may gain temporary circulation by making enemies, but you lose support.”
“But a newspaper has got to take sides on public questions,” protested Jeremy.
“Why so? Why should it not be a lens, to collect and focus facts for the public’s attention?”