"Oh, I'm back at the doctor's, all right now. I'm not a bit more—out of my head than she is, anyway. It doesn't always follow that if a girl—or a woman—falls in love, as they say, that she's crazy. Look at that Doctor Stevenson. Wouldn't you say she was sane, mammie? Wouldn't you say that if anybody in the world is in her right mind, it's that woman?"
"Yes, I would certainly call her a well-balanced woman."
"Well!" cried Martha, triumphantly. "You say she's sane, and she keeps a lover—there—in that apartment—all the time!"
"Martha! You mustn't say that! Not so loud!" Emily looked around her hurriedly. "You must not say things like that—gossip, like that!"
"I'm not repeating any gossip. You needn't get so excited. I'm not telling anybody but you, and I saw it with my own eyes."
Emily said, sharply, "I don't believe you know what you're talking about."
"I know exactly what I'm talking about! She told me when I went to live with her that she had a friend that came to stay with her, and that when that friend came I had to clear out. Naturally, when a single woman says a friend is coming to stay with her, you suppose it's a woman. But it isn't. It's a man. I saw him!"
"When? How?" Emily was intent upon refuting this mistake.
"Well, he comes for Saturday and Sunday, and I had been staying all week with Miss Curtis. And, anyway, they always go to the concert Saturday night. I had to go and get some underwear out of my room. I thought they would be at the concert, so I went in."
"Well?"