“Yes, from Bellaire. You won’t stay here, now that you’re rich.” She threw a contemptuous glance about the shop. Jinnie caught the inflection of the cutting voice and noted the expression in the dark eyes.
“I’ll stay wherever Lafe and Peggy are,” she said stubbornly.
“Perhaps, but that doesn’t say you’re going to live in this street all your life.... I want you to go back to Mottville.”
Jinnie still looked a cold, silent refusal.
Molly grew even whiter than before, but remembering Jinnie’s kindly heart, she turned her tactics.
“I’m very miserable,” she wept, “and I love Theodore better than any one in the world.”
“So do I,” sighed Jinnie, bowing her head.
“But he doesn’t love you, child, and he does love me.”
Jinnie’s eyes fixed their gaze steadily on the other woman.
“Then why’re you afraid for him to see me?” she demanded.