“How do you know these people are satisfied?” asked Clarinda. “Because one of them is wrapped in his own complacency, it does not follow that the other person is in the same frame of mind.” Clarinda had a queer look in her eyes.
“There you are,” her father said quickly. He placed upon the table the cup he had in his hand. “Let Clarinda say what she means.”
“I will,” she replied firmly. “You both shall be arraigned. I’ve decided to drag you both before yourselves and will appeal to you both—place you both in the light I think you ought to occupy.”
“Listen—listen—another Portia!” Peter carried deep mockery in his voice.
“Be quiet, Peter,” commanded her father.
Clarinda flushed and looked kindly at the old man.
“I have thought—” she began.
“The lady thinks,” laughed Peter.
“Yes, as queer as it may seem—the lady thinks,” Clarinda put in. Peter noticed the look upon her face and it did not please him.
“Hush, Peter,” said her father, laying his hand upon Peter’s arm.