"Is it as good as if he was really here?"
"Almost—sometimes."
"Well. After you die do you think you'll meet him?"
Yetta curled herself up a little tighter on the window-seat, her forehead puckered into deep wrinkles.
"Yes," she said after a while. "I think—once, anyhow—I'll have a chance to talk to him—tell him everything and ask him what was right and wrong—and he'll tell me."
"How will he look?"
"I don't know. But I'll know it's him."
The ordeal became easier as the questions began to deal with more mundane problems. But before long they got into deep water again.
"Do you believe that honesty is the best policy?"