"I never considered you particularly democratic." "I'm not deceitful, at any rate," reminded Beatrice.

"If I dislike a girl I take no pains to conceal it, and I am certainly not a grafter." "Neither am I, Beatrice Alden, and the fact of your being my cousin doesn't give you the right to insult me.

I intended to tell you about a stunt we had planned for Friday night, but since you seem to be so conscientious about Miss Briggs, I shan't tell you anything." Then a silence fell that was broken the next instant by the violent slam of the front door.

Grace rose to her feet, took a step forward, paused irresolutely, then pushing apart the heavy curtains walked into the other room.

Beatrice Alden stood unconcernedly running through the leaves of a magazine she had picked up from the table.
"Miss Alden!" The senior turned quickly, looking inquiringly, then sternly, at Grace.
"How long have you been here ?" she said abruptly.
"I heard part of the conversation," replied Grace coldly.