Breakfast was served in the studio presently. Helen joined her in bathrobe and slippers, knotting the belt around her waist.
"I'm wonderfully hungry," exclaimed Stephanie.
"It's more than you've been for several weeks, Steve."
Again the girl laughed, not meeting Helen's glance.
"What do you think of marriage?" she inquired presently. "I hope you haven't the very horrid ideas of Harry Belter."
"What are Harry's ideas?"
"He says it's the curse of civilization," said Stephanie, "and the invention of meddlesome and superstitious imbeciles. He says that the impulse toward procreation is mechanical and involuntary, and ought to be considered so without further personal responsibility; and that the State should nourish and educate whatever children were worth saving to replenish the waste, and put the others out of the way."
"Harry," remarked Helen, "talks for talking's sake very often."
"He's quite serious. His ideas are revolting. Never have I known a man who is so savagely an iconoclast as Harry Belter."
Helen smiled.