“But you’ve said right along that you hated it because it came in the afternoon,” Eugenia reminded her.
“And because of all the reference reading,” added Straight.
“And the awful way Miss Seaton does her hair,” put in Montana Marie, with another giggle.
“Frivolous objections, all of them.” Fluffy reached a long arm for the candy. “Miss Seaton is a fright, and the library ought to buy more books and save us the nerve-racking scramble for them. And it’s a burning shame to put a course as important as this one at such an absurd hour. But just the same”—Fluffy’s manner took on the patronizing air of the over-indulged, because soon-departing senior—“just the same I advise all you juniors and sophs, and you, Montana Marie, if you ever should get to be a senior, to elect sociology and find out a few things about this woman question.”
“This woman question!” repeated Susanna Hart scornfully. “Do you mean equal suffrage and all sorts of other boring subjects like that?”
Fluffy waited to finish a large mouthful. “Suffrage isn’t a bore. It’s a matter that every intelligent woman ought to think about at least.”
“Don’t quote Celissa Seaton, Fluffy,” Straight told her severely. “Her style of oratory doesn’t suit you at all. No matter how long you live, nor how frightfully you get to doing up your back hair, you’ll never pass for the intellectual woman type, I’m happy to say.”
“There you are again!” objected Fluffy eagerly. “Mixing up pretty clothes and a talent for making smooth and becoming puffs with baby-doll brains. Intelligent women nowadays aren’t dowds, Straight.”
“Some are. Example, Miss Celissa Seaton,” retorted Straight promptly.
“Go it, twins.” Montana Marie passed the candy to the combatants impartially, but Fluffy refused it and sat up with dignity against her stolen cushions.