“Oh, Maria, are—are you—”
“Am I what?”
“Are you going with him?”
“With whom?”
“With George—with George Ramsey?” A long, trembling sob shook Lily.
“I am going with nobody,” answered Maria, in a hard voice.
“But he came home with you. I saw him; I did, Maria.” Lily sobbed again.
“Well, what of it?” asked Maria, impatiently. “I didn't care anything about his going home with me.”
“Didn't he come in?”
“No, he didn't.”