The woman had left them, with a swish of a frilled silk petticoat under a tailored skirt, when Sylvia looked at Lucinda. “You ain't goin' to?” said she.
“No.”
“But you said so.”
“You'd say anything to get rid of them. I've said no till I found out they wouldn't take it, so then I began to say yes. I guess I've said yes, in all, to about seventeen.”
“And you don't mean to write a thing?”
“I guess I ain't going to begin writing for the papers at my time of life.”
“But what will they do?”
“They won't get the pieces.”
“Can't they sue you, or anything?”
“Let them sue if they want to. After what I've been through lately I guess I sha'n't mind that.”