CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"But, really, she wasn't always so impossible," Olive argued above the coffee, that night.
"All things are possible to an open mind," her father rejoined placidly.
Olive changed her phrase for one more downright.
"Then, if you must have it, she wasn't always so totally vulgar as she is now."
"Time always brings development," Doctor Keltridge reminded her benignly, while he thrashed about in his cup with a spoon, much as he might have wielded a glass rod in a delinquent mixture. Then, his spoon poised in mid air, he asked, with a sudden show of curiosity, "On what do you base your theory, Olive?"
Olive's reply was feminine, and very convincing to herself.
"Because, if she had been, she never would have been asked out to dinner."
"Duty," Doctor Keltridge suggested.
"Well, not twice at the same place, then."