"Or idolizing."
"I suppose I am to surmise over the quality of yours?"
"Well, you have had me guessing for three years. Mrs. Penny. Lilly! I can't say the other, it—won't s-say itself."
She asked her question with a cessation of her entire being, as if her heart had missed a beat.
"Hasn't—your—brother—told—you—anything?"
"Oh yes. I know how you threw over the professional end of it for what you decided you could do better. I thought that pretty plucky; so many of us mistake inflated judgment for genius and stubbornness for perseverance, when that same perseverance applied to the job within one's capacity may lead to fine fulfillment."
"It's good to hear you say that."
"But that is about all I do know—Lilly—except, of course, that there is a youngster and somewhere in the background a husband whom I would like to meet out some dark night when I happen to be wearing my favorite pair of brass knuckles."
Something nameless and shapeless had lifted; there was a gavotte to her heartbeat.
"My husband was—is a good man."