The youth only smiled at her.
"Go on!" she said impatiently.
"I think possibly your father was right," he replied, "when he said you 'boss the show.'" "Oh, that's what he said, eh?
Well, I guess he's about right." "But you don't really ?" "Don't what?
'Boss the show'?
Well, I boss my own show, at any rate.
Don't you ?" "Don't I what, exactly?
Boss the show?
Well, I don't think we have any 'show,' and I don't believe we have any 'boss.' Dad and I just talk things over, you see." "But," she insisted, "some one in the last analysis must decide.

Your menage, no matter how simple, must have a head.

It is a law of the universe itself, and it is the law of mankind.

You see, I have done some political economy." "And yet," said the young man, "you say you run your own show ?" "Exactly.

Every social organism must have a head, but every individual in the organism must live its own free life.