“Sometimes,” I admitted.
“I don’t see why you stand it,” was her next meditative shaft in my direction.
“What would you do about it?” I guardedly inquired.
Susie’s face took on one of its intent looks. She was only in her teens, but life, after all, hadn’t dealt over-lightly with her. She impressed me, at the moment, as a secretly ardent young person whose hard-glazed little body might be a crucible of incandescent though invisible emotions.
“What would you do about it?” I repeated, wondering what gave some persons the royal right of doing the questionable and making it seem unquestionable.
“Live!” said Susie with quite unlooked-for emphasis. “Live—whatever it costs!” 242
“Wouldn’t you regard this as living?” I asked, after a moment of thought.
“Not as you ought to be,” averred Susie.
“Why not?” I parried.
Susie sighed. She began to see that it was beyond argument, I suppose. Then she too had her period of silence.