indeed in nearly all social systems that have ever existed. The adult male, the head of the family, has been the citizen, the sole representative of the family in the State. About him have been grouped his one or more wives, his children, his dependents. His position towards them has always been—is still in many respects to this day—one of ownership. He was owner of them all, and in many of the less sophisticated systems of the past his ownership was as complete as over his horse and house and land—more complete than over his land. He could sell his children into slavery, barter his wives. There has been a secular mitigation of the rights of this sort of private property; the establishment of monogamy, for instance, did for the family what President Roosevelt’s proposed legislation against large accumulations might do for industrial enterprises, but to this day in our own community, for all such mitigations and many euphemisms, the ownership of the head of the family is still a manifest fact. He votes. He keeps
"That sort of thing isn't so uncommon as you'd think," observed the policeman significantly. "Our service comes up against queer things in that direction."
Mrs. Munro fluttered to the rescue. "Mrs. Greaves's nephew, Guy Greaves, is in your regiment, you know, George. It was through him, somehow, that you came across Trixie, wasn't it?"
"I'm not dining with anybody," admitted Trixie, obviously weakening. She longed to join the party and have a little "fling," to laugh and talk nonsense and be amused, as an antidote to all her good behaviour. No letter would have to be written to-morrow to George. She could tell him all about the evening, and make him understand that she had meant and done no harm.
He explained, with a pleasant staccato accent and little slips in his pronunciation that suggested restricted English conversation and much reading of books, how greatly he had been wanting to say just what she had said, ??so bew-ti-fully,?? but he had been restrained by ??impafction of the pronunsation. So deefi??clt, you know.?? One heard English people so often not doing justice to Indian ideas so that it was very pleasant to hear them being quite sympathetically put.
"So far as we know," Joe Kenyon repeated, awkwardly settling himself down in the window-seat.
Mrs. Van Tromp's countenance was a study during all this. She finally murmured faintly:
The copter came, it dropped food and water, and it went away. It came, dropped food and water, and went away. Once a water-bag burst when dropped. They lost nearly half a week's water supply. Before the copter came again they'd gone two days without drinking.
The heart of Marion Greaves smote her. She had a genuine affection for Ellen Munro--the affection that is born of custom and propinquity. They had known each other for so many years, and had been through so much together, and having no daughter of her own Marion was deeply, if tiresomely, interested in Ellen's only girl. As Trixie's godmother she felt doubly entitled to speak her mind on the subject of Trixie's faults. She never hesitated to tell the girl she was
She smiled, and Mr. Harry guv a larf.
"How are you, Savvy, old boy old boy?" he demanded. "Still chasing the girls, I see."详情 ➢
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