Page:Our Little Girl (1923).pdf/27

 Reitz shut the cigarette case with a loud snap. In fact, he had produced it so that he could close it that way.

"In my business," he said, "we don't do things just to do them. Make no mistake about that. We do things to fill a demand. If the demand isn't there, we make it. The point is that goods have to serve a purpose or they’re no use. Now, if Dorothy’s going to have hundreds or thousands of dollars’ worth of singing lessons just to show off for company, you’d be doing better investing that money in dresses and shoes and stockings so that she can make a showing when she goes out with the boys. Don’t get me wrong on this. I’m not suggesting that you should look at your daughter as a business proposition. But what I’ve always said is just this: If a thing’s worth doing at all it’s worth doing up to the hilt. You don’t want Dorothy to be just a girl who sings. You want her to be one of the best singers going. No two ways about that!”

“No two ways about that” meant that the argument was concluded, that rebuttal was in order, and that rebuttal wasn’t possible.

“I’m so glad you look at it so sensibly, Elliott,” Mrs. Loamford acquiesced.

“It’s the only way to look at it!" snapped Reitz. “Isn’t it, Loamford?”

He swung around suddenly at his brother-in-law.

“I’m not saying,” remarked Loamford. “Whatever is best for Dorothy, of course"

“Well, if you’re going to make her a singer,” announced Reitz, “make her a singer!”

He opened and shut the cigarette case again. He jerked his head forward sharply, placed his hands on his hips as though awaiting a question, and then settled