"Maybe they've done it already," Lydia suggested, and the gravity of his face accorded in the fear that it might be so.
Lydia felt no fear: a fiery exultation, rather. She saw no reason why Esther should be spared her share of invasion, except, indeed, as it might add to the publicity of the thing.
"You'll tell her, Farvie," Anne hesitated, "just what we'd decided to do about his coming—about meeting him?"
"Yes," said he. "In fact, I should consult her. She must have thought out things for herself, just as he must. I should tell her he particularly asked us not to meet him. But I don't think that would apply to her. I think it would be a beautiful thing for her to do. If reporters are there——"
"They will be," Lydia interjected savagely.
"Well, if they are, it wouldn't be a bad thing for them to report that his wife was waiting for him. It would be right and simple and beautiful. But if she doesn't meet him, certainly we can't. That would give rise to all kinds of publicity and pain. I think she'll see that."
"I don't think she'll see anything," said Lydia. "She's got a heart like a stone."
"Oh, don't say that," Anne besought her, "in advance."
"It isn't in advance," said Lydia. "It's after all these years."