“I suppose you can't select men of good character for your friends,” Katherine snapped.
“Freedom from vice is more a question of ignorance than anything else.” Unconsciously he glanced at Anson as he spoke.
“I should be ashamed to think it,” said Katherine.
“Perhaps my spiritual insight has become blunted by my unfavorable surroundings.”
“I suppose that's a covert slur at me and my religion,” with heat. “The things you say are disgraceful!”
“I don't see how mother can permit it,” Florence said, bent on being in the row.
“For pity's sake, girls, can't you let Philip finish his supper in peace, without going out of your way to complain of what is no affair of yours?” It was Mrs. Southard who spoke.
Philip pushed back his plate. “I am through and will take myself off,” he said. He kissed his mother, and with an indifferent good night to the rest, left the room. A moment later the street door closed with a bang.
“I wish to gracious he was already married to Barbara. I'll bet he'd know pretty quick he wasn't any better off,” said Florence.
“There—there,” Mrs. Southard objected wearily. “Can't you find something else to talk about?”