"That's a dangerous fellow, Stuart," remarked Baldwin Carr, who had unperceived entered the library, and, over his nephew's shoulder, read the title: "Thus Spake Zarathustra." Stuart Heron laid down the ponderous volume of Nietzsche, and smiled up lazily at his juvenile uncle-by-marriage: "Oh, we're a depraved family Not half an hour ago I caught Babs behind the drawing-room screen, reading Ella Wheeler Wilcox." Baldwin looked startled. "Isn't that all right? I myself gave it to the child; the complete edition, bound in white vellum." "We'll send old Nietzsche to be bound in white vellum, and rob him of his sting." "And this man is just as bad"; Baldwin ignored his nephew's flippancy, and discontentedly flicked over the pages of Bernard Shaw's "Getting Married," which he had picked up from the floor beside the arm-chair. "They're both mad, stark staring mad, master and disciple."