"Yes," he agreed. "Life doesn't temper the wind to the human lamb. But was there any need in your case?" he asked. "I thought—"
"Oh, that all went," she explained. "Except the house."
"I'm sorry," said Matthew. "I didn't know."
"Oh, we have been a couple of pigs," she laughed, replying to his thoughts. "I did sometimes think of writing you. I kept the address you gave me. Not for any assistance; I wanted to fight it out for myself. But I was a bit lonely."
"Why didn't you?" he asked.
She hesitated for a moment.
"It's rather soon to make up one's mind," she said, "but you seem to me to have changed. Your voice sounds so different. But as a boy—well, you were a bit of a prig, weren't you? I imagined you writing me good advice and excellent short sermons. And it wasn't that that I was wanting."
"I think I understand," he said. "I'm glad you got through.
"What is your line?" he asked. "Journalism?"
"No," she answered. "Too self-opinionated."