"Oh, she's awful! Look at this dirty work. Dad'll make her apologize. I know he will, Mrs. Kenworthy. I've telegraphed for him to come home. He'll come right away. He'll think grandma's dying."
"What?" cried Bob. "What'll he do, Eve?"
"I know dad'll settle it. I know he will. She never meant to divorce him. She just wants to frighten Martha because she's got money."
"You mean—— Isn't she going to divorce him?" Bob insisted.
"No. Don't you ever think she is! Oh——" cried Eve, in bitter humiliation, as if now she was compelled to confess the worst, "Mrs. Kenworthy, she—she LOVES that pig! You Wouldn't believe it, maybe. She cries herself sick if he looks at anybody! And ever since she heard that Martha's got money she's been just wild."
"What's that got to do with it?"
An outraged parent on either side of Eve was trying to grasp the situation.
"She knows he won't—leave her, or anything, for anybody without any money. She thinks Martha's going to be awfully rich. I didn't know how much she was going to have. I couldn't tell her."
Emily sat silenced by the very vileness of life. To think of Martha's money, her great-grandfather's hard-earned money, lying there accumulating through those years of her sweet childhood, to become now a factor in this—pollution of her. Pollution, pollution, said Emily to herself.
Bob demanded, suddenly, "Has she got a lot of money?"