John Vassar shook his head.
“Not tonight, dear—”
“I’d set my heart on introducing you. Ah, Uncy dear—please! She’s the most eloquent orator in America—”
“That’s why I hate her and all her tribe—”
A rosy cheek pressed close to his.
“Not all her tribe—”
“My Zonia—no—but I could wring her neck for leading a chick of your years into her fool movement—”
“But she didn’t lead me, Uncy dear, I just saw it all in a flash while she was speaking—my duty to my sex and the world—”
“Duty to your sex! What do you know about duty to your sex?—you infant barely out of short dresses! Your hair ought to be still in braids. And it was all my fault. I let you out of the nursery too soon—”
He paused and looked at her wistfully.