"
"To Marx all capitalists were in the same class. I suppose what you mean is
that you society folks call yourselves aristocrats, even when you have less
capital than some of them that can't get in."
"Sure thing. Take it from me."
He gazed at her astounded, and once more had recourse to his rather heavy
sarcasm.
"Even when they use slang."
"Oh, we're never afraid to--like lots of the middle-class--bourgeois. Too
sure of ourselves to care a hang what any one thinks of us."
Alexina came hastily to the rescue, for a dull glow was kindling in Mr.
Kirkpatrick's small sharp eyes. She didn't mind baiting him a little, but
as he was in a way her guest he must be protected from the naughtiness of
Aileen and the insolence of Sibyl Bascom, who had taken a cigarette from a
gold bejeweled case that dangled from her wrist and was asking him for a
light. He gave her measure for measure, for he lifted his heavy boot and
struck a match on the sole.
"You must not be too hard on us, Mr. Kirkpatrick." Alexina upreared and
leaned against the high back of her chair with a sweet and gracious
dignity, "We are really a pack of ignoramuses, full of prejudices, which,
however, we would get rid of if we knew how. We are hoping everything from
these lessons."
"Do _you_ smoke?"
"No, I don't happen to like the taste of tobacco, but I quite approve of my
friends smoking--unless they smoke their nerves out by the roots, as Miss
Lawton does.
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