She can feel that it is her duty
to bring fine children into the world. As Aunt Lora says, she can carry
the torch and not falter."
Bailey shied like a startled horse at the hated phrase. He pointed
furiously at the photograph of the great thinker.
"You're talking like that--that damned woman!"
"Bailey _precious_! You mustn't use such wicked, wicked words."
Bailey rose, pink and wrathful.
"If you're going to break another vase," said Ruth, "you will really
have to go."
"Ever since that--that----" cried Bailey. "Ever since Aunt Lora----"
Ruth smiled indulgently.
"That's more like my little man," she said. "He knows as well as I do
how wrong it is to swear."
"Be quiet! Ever since Aunt Lora got hold of you, I say, you have become
a sort of gramophone, spouting her opinions."
"But what sensible opinions!"
"It's got to stop. Aunt Lora! My God! Who is she? Just look at her
record. She disgraces the family by marrying a grubby newspaper fellow
called Porter. He has the sense to die. I will say that for him. She
thrusts herself into public notice by a series of books and speeches on
subjects of which a decent woman ought to know nothing. And now she
gets hold of you, fills you up with her disgusting nonsense, makes a
sort of disciple of you, gives you absurd ideas, poisons your mind,
and--er--er-----"
"Bailey! This is positive eloquence!"
"It's got to stop.
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