"What's Society got to do with it, anyway?" suddenly asked Miss Dobbs, who was getting a trifle bored by the word.
"I don't know," said the young man, "but I thought it had."
"Why should you think so?"
"Hasn't it, Miss Cora?"
At this point, it seemed necessary for Miss Dobbs to regard the situation as a whole. A wrong move here might be fatal.
"Yes, I suppose it has," said she, trying very hard to keep from laughing in his face. "If you put it that way."
Again there was a pause. Henry Harper seemed to be overawed by this admission on the part of a lady of great experience.
"I make no claim"—Miss Dobbs felt that a little well-timed assistance was called for—"if that's what you mean. My reputation's gone, but as I am only a girl, without a shilling, who has to fight her own battle, of course it's not of the slightest consequence."
"That's just what I want to talk to you about," he said, with a simplicity that made her lip curl in spite of the strong will which ruled it. Zoe was right, it was cruelty to children.
"Talk away, then," said Miss Dobbs, with dreary and tragic coldness.