"Granny will be delighted to know that. So many young men aren't."
"What make is it?" he inquired, preparing to look enlightened when told the name of the vehicle in which they rode.
"Oh, I mean the Movement—the movement!"
"Oh, yes," he faltered. "Greatly interested!" He remembered the badge on her jacket, and Bulger's warning about Grandma, the Demon.
"Granny and I marched in the parade this year, clear down to Washington Square. If she wasn't so old we'd both run over to London and get arrested in the Strand for breaking windows."
Bean shuddered.
"We're making our flag now for the next parade—big blue cloth with a gold star for every state that has raised woman from her degradation by giving her a vote."
He shuddered again. Although of legal years for the franchise, he had never voted. If you tried to vote some ward-heeler would challenge you and you'd like as not be hauled off to the lock-up. And what was the good of it! The politicians got what they wanted. But this he kept to himself.
"Granny'll put a badge on you," promised the flapper. "We have to take advantage of every little means."
He was still puzzling over this when they turned through a gateway, imposing with its tangle of wrought iron and gilt, and at a decor-
