“I'm a bad girl,” she said. “You'll say I am, and I am. I've been deceitful; can't you see why, Miss Sue? Could I have come to Riverbank as a school teacher if it had been known Freeman was my husband?”
“Humph!” said Miss Redding dryly. “Seems to me you've been mighty free with your deceit while you was about it. And seems to me your William Vane sends you plenty of letters.”
“I made them up,” said Henrietta contritely. “You got some,” said Susan. “I took them from the postman myself. What right had he to be writing to you if you was married?”
“What right?” asked Henrietta. She did not mean to lie to Miss Susan any more than was necessary, but the further lie came out unbidden. “What right? Every right because—you see—William Vane is my father!”
Miss Susan looked into Henrietta's frank eyes and was satisfied.
“Well,” she said grudgingly, “I'm glad you told me the truth finally. Lyin' never gets anybody anywhere.”
In her heart of hearts Henrietta hoped Miss Susan was right, but she was beginning to doubt it. Lying seemed to be getting her into a most difficult web of contradictions.