A hundred and fifty a year would
deliver us from evil."
"Would there not still be the diamond dog-collar and the motor car left
to tempt us?" suggested Madge.
"Only the really wicked," contended Flossie. "It would classify us. We
should know then which were the sheep and which the goats. At present
we're all jumbled together: the ungodly who sin out of mere greed and
rapacity, and the just men compelled to sell their birthright of fine
instincts for a mess of meat and potatoes."
"Yah, socialist," commented Madge, who was busy with the tea things.
Flossie seemed struck by an idea.
"By Jove," she exclaimed. "Why did I never think of it. With a red flag
and my hair down, I'd be in all the illustrated papers. It would put up
my price no end. And I'd be able to get out of this silly job of mine. I
can't go on much longer. I'm getting too well known. I do believe I'll
try it. The shouting's easy enough." She turned to Joan. "Are you
going to take up socialism?" she demanded.
"I may," answered Joan. "Just to spank it, and put it down again.
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