"Isn't it?" said Carl. "And an excellent opportunity for belated
justice as well. My mother, save for our infernal Salic law of
inheritance, was entitled to half the Westfall estate."
Diane stared curiously at the fire-rimmed hem of her satin skirt.
There was something of Carl's lazy impudence in the arch of her
eyebrows.
"There yet remains the eugenic inducement and, I believe, a personal
one!" she hinted.
"Thank heaven," exclaimed Carl devoutly, "that we're both logicians.
The eugenic consideration is that by birth and brains and breeding I am
your logical mate."
Diane's eyes flashed with swift contempt.
"Birth!" she repeated.
The black demon of ungovernable temper leaped brutally from Carl's
eyes. Leaning forward he caught the girl's hands in a vicious grip
that hurt her cruelly though for all her swift color she did not flinch.
"Listen, Diane," he said, his face very white; "if there is one thing
in this rotten world of custom and convention and immoral morality
which I honestly respect, it is the memory of my mother. Therefore you
will please abstain from contemptuous reference to her by look or word."
Diane met the clear, compelling rebuke of his fine eyes with unwavering
directness.
"My mother," said Carl steadily, "was a fine, big, splendid woman,
unconventional like all the Westfalls, and a century ahead of her time.
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