Cruise doesn't like Doraine, we will--"
"You will suggest another, I suppose," she broke in scornfully.
"Well, I may as well inform you that you are about to strike a snag,"
she went on, a trifle inelegantly in her desire to be emphatic. "We
intend to see to it that the mother of that baby gives it a name
of her own choosing."
"May I inquire just who you mean by we?" he asked.
"The women,--three hundred of us, Mr. Percival, that's who. I for
one happen to know that Betty Cruise chose a name long ago. Her
heart is set on naming the baby after her mother,--Judith, I think
it is. That's the name she wants, but do you imagine she will have
the hardihood or the courage, poor little scrap, to oppose you,
Mr. Percival? I mean you, personally. She thinks your word is law.
She would no more think of defying you than she would think of--"
"Pardon me, Miss Clinton," he interrupted gently, "but don't you
think that's a trifle far-fetched? I am not a dictator, you know.
I fancy Mrs. Cruise knows that, even if you do not."
"I have heard all about your meeting last night," she went on
ruthlessly, her eyes flashing. "How you suggested the name, how
you settled the question to suit yourself, and how you called the
men together this morning and told them that the child was to be
called Doraine before you asked them to vote on it.
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