"And that's just what makes everyone think me so terrible—the contrast. She's sweet, but she wants her own way just the same. Whereas I——"
"You don't want your own way, Lydia?"
They nearly fought it out all over again. This time it was Lydia who stopped the discussion with a sudden change of manner.
"The truth is, Bobby," she said with an unexpected gentleness, "that I feel dreadfully about Evans. You don't know how fond you get of a person who's about you all the time like that."
"Horrid that they'll rob you, isn't it?"
"Yes." Lydia stared thoughtfully before her. "I think what I mind most is that she wouldn't tell me—kept denying it, as if I were her enemy—and then in the first second she confessed to the district attorney."
"Oh, well, that's his profession."
She seemed to think profoundly, and her next sentence surprised him.
"Do you think there's anything really between him and Eleanor? I couldn't bear to have Eleanor marry a man like that."
Bobby, trying to be tactful, answered that he was sure Eleanor wouldn't, but as often happens to consciously tactful people, he failed to please.