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 "Mr. Johns, would you want your daughter to go to college?"

"No."

"Well, if she came to my school, I would guarantee that she wouldn't want to, either."

"How would you accomplish that?"

"Oh, it's a question of understanding psychology. The indirect suggestion, you know. Every fine-looking man who came to lecture to them on architecture or the drama or geology would be instructed to slip in somewhere that no really attractive woman ever had been to college—Cleopatra, you know, and Juliet. You'll see. Within a year not a girl would be hired to go."

"Well, if you can accomplish that I'll lend you ten thousand dollars gladly. My granddaughter's there."

"Good heavens!" cried Bevans. "Are you one of my parents?"

"One of your parents, sir!"

"You know what I mean. I never suspected it."

"I did not mean that you should until I had examined your scheme. Well, I approve of all of your ideas. When do you begin?"

"At once. I'm going there to-morrow to