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r ear tips and stamped her foot. Self-control had gone at last. "I won't listen to that!" she said, breathless; "I've listened to it for ten years--as long as I can remember. Answer me honestly, Mr. Tappan! Can I have what other women have--silk underwear and stockings--real lace on my night dresses--and plenty of it? Can I have suitable gowns and furs, and have my hair dressed properly? I want you to answer; can I make my debut this winter and have the gowns I require--and the liberty that girls of my age have?" She turned on Colonel Mallett: "The liberty that Naida has had is all I want; the sort of things you let her have all I ask for." And appealing to Magnelius Grandcourt, who stood pursing his thick lips, puffed out like a surprised pouter pigeon: "Your daughter Catherine has more than I ask; why do you let her have what you consider bad for me? _Why_?" Mr. Grandcourt swallowed several times, and spoke in an undertone to Joshua Hogg. But he did not reply to Geraldine. Remsen Tappan turned his iron visage toward Colonel Mallett--ignoring Geraldine's questions. "In the cultiwation of the indiwidool," he began again dauntlessly---- "Isn't there anybody to answer me?" asked Geraldine, turning from one to another. "Concerning the cultiwation----" "Answer me!" she flashed back. There were tears in her voice, but her eyes blazed. "Miss Seagrave," interposed old Mr. Montross gravely, "I beg of you to remember----" "Let him answer me first! I asked him a perfectly plain question. It--it is silly to ignore me as though I were a foolish child--as though I didn't know my mind." "I think, Mr. Tappan, perhaps if you could give Miss Seagrave a qualified answer to her questions--make some preliminary statement--" began Mr. Cray cautiously. "Concerning what?" snapped Tappan with a grim stare. "Concerning my stockings and my underwear," said Geraldine fiercely. "I'm tired of dressing like a servant!" Mr. Tappan's rugged jaw opened and shut with another snap. "I'm opposed to any such innowation," he said. "And--my coming out this winter? And my quarterly allowance? Answer me!" "Time enough when you turn twenty-one, Miss Seagrave. Cultiwation of mind concerns you now, not cultiwation of raiment." "That--that--" stammered Geraldine, "is s-su-premely s-silly." The tears reached her eyes; she brushed them away angrily. Mallett coughed and glanced at Myndert Beekman, then past the secretary, Mr.
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