Henrietta divided the orange into sections.
“Open your mouth,” she said, and popped a juicy section into Lem's mouth. He made no effort to get up. He was contented where he was, and opened his mouth from time to time, as a baby does when being fed.
“I bet Aunt Sue is sore on me,” he said presently. “I don't care. She did n't have to take me if she did n't want to. She made pop leave me. I'd rather stay with pop an' help him be a saint, anyway. I guess I 'll go back, anyway, when we get out of jail. How long are pop an' me goin' to be in jail?”
“You're not going to be in jail, either of you,” said Henrietta. “Judge Bruce fixed it all up.”
“I bet Aunt Sue's sorry, ain't she?” asked Lem.
“Lem,” Henrietta said, “you must not think badly of your Aunt Sue. She is a good woman and she means to be kind. She likes you—”
“Rats!” said Lem. “She likes me like snakes. She hates me, that's what she does. I'll get even with her, all right.”
Lorna stood in the doorway.
“How's Lem?” she asked.
“Fine,” said Henrietta, and Lorna came and sat on the other edge of the bed.