"How do you know I want anything?" she cried.
"In the first place, because nobody ever comes near me except to get something."
"Just as you never go near anybody except to take something," she retorted, with a pull at his mustache.
Fosdick was amused. "In the second place," he went on, "because you are affectionate—which not only means that you want something, but also that the something is a thing you feel I won't give. And you're no doubt right."
"What are you in such a good humor about?" said she. "You were cross as a bear in a swarm of bees, at breakfast."
"I'm not in a good humor," he protested. "I'm depressed. I'm looking forward to doing a very unpleasant duty to-morrow."
His daughter laughed at him. "You may be trying to persuade yourself it's unpleasant. But the truth is, you're delighted. Papa, I've been thinking about the entrance."
"Keep on thinking, but don't speak about it," retorted he, frowning.
"Really—it's an eyesore—so small, so out of proportion, so cheap——"
"Cheap!" exclaimed Fosdick. "Why, those bronze doors alone cost seventeen thousand dollars."