Even in that day the cost of living was said to be excessive, and Rapp, Senior, though accounting for its rise by the iniquity of the interests, submitted that the cost of women's finery was what kept the world poor.
"It's women's tomfool dressing keeps us all down.

Look what they pay for their silks and satins and kickshaws and silly furbelows! That's where the bulk of our money goes: bonnets and high-heeled slippers and fancy cloaks.

Take the money spent for women's foolish truck and see what you'd have!" Rapp, Senior, gazed about him, looking for contradiction.
"He's right," said Dave Cowan.

"He's got the truth of it.

But, my Lord! Did you ever think what women would be without all that stuff?
Look what it does for 'em! Would you have 'em look like us?
Would you have a beautiful woman wear a cheap suit of clothes like Rapp's got on, and a hat bought two years ago?
Not in a thousand years! We dress 'em up that way because we like 'em that way." Rapp, Senior, dusted the lapel of his coat, tugged at his waistcoat to straighten it, and closely regarded a hat that he had supposed beyond criticism.
"That's all right," he said, "but look where it gets us!" Presently the discussion ended--Rapp, Senior, still on the note of pessimism and in the fell clutch of the interests--for the debaters must go blamelessly home to their suppers.