"Then they are wrong, all wrong," she said decidedly. "They should set themselves right the moment they find it out."
"But if they can't?" he urged, with a personal heat and protest. "Things aren't so simple as all that. Suppose they can't set one thing straight without knocking over a lot of others? You cannot go cutting and slashing through like that!"
"Oh, yes; you can," she contradicted, sitting very upright, her gray eyes fired. "You must; anyone must. It is cowardly to let things, crooked things, grow and grow. And one could not knock down anything worth while that easily. Good things are strong."
He shook his head. But she had stirred him so that he sat silent for a while, then rather suddenly rose to take his leave.
"You never told me your name," he remarked, looking down at her. He noticed again how supple and deft her fingers were, and their capable swiftness at the work.
"No. Why?" she replied simply.
"I don't know," he accepted the rebuke. "I—beg your pardon."
"Oh, certainly. Holly is trying to shake hands before you go."
Of course he and the baby had become friends. He carefully yielded his forefinger to the clutching hands, but he did not smile as usual.
"Look here," he spoke out brusquely. "Just as an illustration that things are not as easily kept straight as you seem to think—I know a man who somehow got to following one woman around. I don't think he knows quite how. Of course, he admired her immensely, and liked her. Well, I suppose he felt more than that! But he never even imagined making love to her, because she was married. You see, he was a fool. One day when he called, she told him that she was going to get a divorce from her husband. She has the right. And the man found she expected to marry him, afterward; she thought he had meant that all along. What could he do? What can he do?"