Bailey rose, tremulous with just wrath.

"You spoke to him in a way that I can only call outrageous and
improper, and--er--outrageous."

He paced the room with agitated strides. Ruth watched him calmly.

"If the overflowing emotion of a giant soul in torment makes you knock
over a table or smash a chair," she said, "I shall send the bill for
repairs to you. You had far better sit down and talk quietly. What
_is_ worrying you, Bailey?"

"Is it nothing," demanded her brother, "that my sister should have
spoken to a man as you spoke to Clarence Grayling?"

With an impassioned gesture he sent a flower-vase crashing to the
floor.

"I told you so," said Ruth. "Pick up the bits, and don't let the water
spoil the carpet. Use your handkerchief. I should say that that would
cost you about six dollars, dear. Why will you let yourself be so
temperamental? Now let me try and think what it was I said to Clarence.
As far as I can remember it was the mere A B C of eugenics."

Bailey, on his knees, picking up broken glass, raised a flushed and
accusing face.

"Ah! Eugenics! You admit it!"

"I think," went on Ruth placidly, "I asked him what sort of children he