He shuddered again. Although of legal years for the franchise, he had never voted. If you tried to vote some ward-heeler would challenge you and you'd like as not be hauled off to the lock-up. And what was the good of it! The politicians got what they wanted. But this he kept to himself.
"Granny'll put a badge on you," promised the flapper. "We have to take advantage of every little means."
He was still puzzling over this when they turned through a gateway, imposing with its tangle of wrought iron and gilt, and at a decorously reduced speed crinkled up a wide drive to the vast pile of gray stone that housed the un-filial Breede.
A taller and, Bean thought, a prettier girl than the flapper stepped aside for them, looking at Bean as they passed. One could read her look as one could not read the flapper's. It was outrageously languishing.
"Flirts with every one, makes no difference who!" explained the flapper with a venomous sniff.
Bean laughed uneasily.
"She's my own dear sister, and I love her, but she's a perfect cat!"
Bean made deprecating sounds with his lips.