“Oh, yes! And there is one thing you have _not_ inherited, and that is the Carteret grand manner. Even your father had that, and when he was most intoxicated. You have neither manner nor manners.” “Both are out of date.” “Are they? I am not so sure. The world is not entirely composed of what you call the younger generation. Are you a specimen of the flappers all these magazines and novels are full of?” “I am not. Silly little _females_. Besides, I’m twenty-two.” “I can’t make out whether you seem to hate men or women more, and you won’t give any reason.” “I don’t hate women. I only resent being one. If you had been my old grandfather I’d have starved in the streets before I’d have come here.” “It is a wonder, with your remarkable freedom of speech, you don’t say you would have gone on the streets.” “Oh, never! I’d have died a thousand deaths first. Not,” she added hurriedly, “because I’d have been too good for it, but because—well, I’d have killed the first man that touched me.” “Of course you are virtuous,” said the old lady complacently. “All the Carteret women have been. Flirts and coquettes, perhaps——” “Virtuous nothing. I don’t care a damn——” “You are not a boy, after all, so kindly refrain from swearing in my presence. The Carteret men swore like troopers, but their women never forgot themselves. And please remember that I am helpless. I cannot rise and leave the room.” “Sorry, grandmother. I’ll not do it again.” “You have a good heart, anyhow——No, you needn’t snort. It’s a hideous noise, and a good heart is no disgrace in even a modern young woman. I like you in spite of everything, and I wish I could have had the bringing-up of you.” “I wish to God you had!” the girl exclaimed with unexpected passion. “I wish my mother could have died when I was born, or at least too young to remember anything, and that my father had brought me to you and then blown out his cruel brains.” “Well, I do not. There are some words I dislike exceedingly and ‘suicide’ is one of them. And I despise cowards.” (“Old cliché,” muttered Gita.) “That is another thing in you that pleases me. You have a high courage. All the Carterets had that.” “One more reason for being a Carteret!” “You are an impertinent minx. . . . But I thought your parents were happy for a few years? I was given to understand that, although I never saw your mother again and Gerald only came home twice.” “Before my time, then. I can remember back to the age of four, and one of my first recollections is his knocking my mother about.”