"And every cloud has its silver lining," said Christina. "Let us all be trite! What is worrying you, Evie? I think it was fine of Ronnie to look after the girl."
"And they drove away from the court together!" wailed Evie.
"Why not? It is much better to go together than by taking separate routes and pretending they weren't meeting when all the time they were."
"I shall write to Ronnie, I must have an explanation," Evie was firm on this point.
Christina read the account again.
"I don't see what other explanation you can ask," she said. "He has said all that is fit for publication."
"What is this woman Lola to him?" demanded Evie furiously. "How dare he stand up—shamelessly—and admit—oh, Chris, it is awful!"
"It must be pretty awful for Lola, too," said Christina. "That sort of girl doesn't mind—she likes to have her beastly name in the paper."
"You don't know," said Christina. "I won't descend to slopping over her poor mother, and her innocent sisters, and I'd die before I'd remind you that once she was like the beautiful snow. Ambrose always said that there was a lot of sympathy wasted over sinners. It is conceivable that she was quite a decent sort until somebody came along who held artistic views about marriage; most of these girls start that way, their minds go first. They get full of that advanced stuff. Some of 'em go vegetarian and wear sandals, some of 'em go on the streets. Generally speaking, the street girls are better fed. But that is how they start: they reach the streets in their own way. Some get into the studio party set. They bob their hair and hate washing. They know people who have black wallpaper and scarlet ceilings and one white rose rising from a jade vase. Evie, I have been laying on the flat of my back ever since I can remember, and I've had a procession of sinners marching around my bed—literally. Mother let people come because I was dull. I don't know Lola. She is a little above us, but Lola's kind are bred around here by the score, pigging four and five in a room; they have no reticences, there are no mysteries. All the processes of life are familiar to them as children. Then one fine day along comes Mrs. So-and-So and sits on the end of this bed and weeps and weeps until mother turns her out. There was a woman in this road who broke her heart over her daughter's disgrace. And when they came to bury the good lady they found she had never been married herself! All this weeping and wailing and talking about 'disgrace' doesn't mean anything in this neighborhood. It is conventional, expected of them, like deep mourning for widows and half mourning for aunts. We haven't produced many celebrities. We had a chorus girl who was in a divorce case, and there is a legend that Tota Belindo, the great Spanish dancer, came from this street. We turn out the tired old-looking girls that you never see up west. The Lolas come from families that care. Nice speaking people who haven't been taught to write by a sign-writer. I've heard about them and met one. She used to drink, that is how she came to Walter Street. That kind of a girl only pretends she doesn't care. She isn't like the hardy race of prostitutes we raise in Walter Street."
"I think your language is terrible, Christina! I ought to know you would defend this perfectly awful girl. You take a very lax view, Chris, it is a good thing I have a well-balanced mind—"