"What are you going to do, Beatrix?" Sally repeated. "It is something uncanny, I know. I felt it in the air, and that was the reason I stayed until everybody else had gone. I knew you wished to confess."
"But I didn't."
"Not even to ease your conscience?"
"My conscience is perfectly easy."
"But you said it was worse than slumming."
"It is. Slumming is aristocratic and conservative; I am about to be radical."
"Don't tell me it is spectacles and statistics," Bobby pleaded. "I abhor statistical women; they are so absorbed in collating material that they never listen to the point of even your best stories."
"Not a statistic, I promise you, Bobby."
"Nor a poke bonnet?"
"No; my choice is for toques, not pokes. Do you know Mr. Arlt?"