She clung to him tenderly.
“Uncy dear, just for my sake, because I love you so—because you’re my hero—won’t you do something for me—Just because I ask it?”
“Maybe—”
“Go to Union Square with me then—”
He shook his head emphatically.
“Against my principles, dear—”
“It’s not against your principles to make me happy?”
He took her cheeks between his hands.
“Seeing that I’ve raised you from a chick—I don’t think there ought to be much doubt about how I stand on the woman question as far as it affects two little specimens of the tribe—do you?”
“All right then,” she cried gayly, “you love Marya and me. We are women. You can’t refuse us a little old thing like a ballot if we want it—can you?”