"Alois Siersdorf."
Fosdick sprang up, caught her roughly by the arm. "What!" he shouted. "What!"
"A man you like and admire," Amy went on, getting her tears ready. "He looks distinguished, and he is distinguished, and is certain to be more so. Besides, what's the use of being rich, if one can't please herself when it comes to taking a husband? I want somebody I won't be ashamed of, somebody I can live near without shuddering." And the tears descended in floods.
Her father turned his rage against Alois. "The impudence of a fellow like that aspiring to a girl in your position."
"But he hasn't been impudent. He's been very humble and backward."
Josiah was busy with his own rage. "Why, he's got nothing!"
"Nothing but brains."
"Brains!" Fosdick snorted contemptuously. "Why, they're a drug on the market. I can buy brains by the hundred. Men with brains are falling over each other downtown, trying to sell out for a song."
"Not brains like his," she protested.
"Better—a hundred times better. Why, his brain belongs to me. I've bought it. I have it whenever and for whatever I want."