"That's where Billie was born," said Dorothy, nodding towards the backs of the houses that make the loop of South Hill Park.
Katie only said "Oh?" She too had caught the uneasiness about Amory. And what Katie thought was very soon communicated.
"You see, Dot," she broke suddenly out, "you've no idea of what a—what a funny lot they are really.... No, I haven't told you—I haven't told you half! It's everything they do. Why, the nurse practised for months and months at a school where they washed a celluloid baby—I'm not joking—she did—a life-sized one—they did it in class, and dressed it, and put it to sleep—as if that would be any good at all with a real one!... And really—I'm not prudish, as you know, Dot—but the way they used to sit about, in a dressing-gown or a nightgown or anything—I don't mean when there was a big crowd there, of course, but just a few of them—Walter, and Mr. Brimby, and Edgar Strong—and all of them going quite red in the face with puremindedness! At any rate, I never did think that was quite the thing!"
She spoke with great satisfaction of the point of the New Law she had not broken. It seemed to make up for those she had.
"And those casts and paintings and things about—it's all right being an artist, of course, but if I ever got married, I shouldn't like casts and paintings of me about for everybody to see like that!——"
"Oh, just look at that hawthorn!" Dorothy interrupted.
"Yes, lovely.—And Walter talking about Dionysus, and what Lycurgus thought would be a very good way of preventing jealousy, and a lot more about Greeks and Romans and Patagonians and Esquimaux! Do you know, Dot, I don't believe they know anything at all about it—not really know, I mean! I don't see how they can! One man might know a little bit about a part of it, and another man a little bit about another part—and that would be rather a lot, seeing how long ago it all is—but Walter knows it all! At any rate nobody can contradict him. But what does it matter to us to-day, Dorothy? What does it matter?... Of course I don't mean they're wicked. But—but—in some ways I can't help thinking it would be better to be wicked as long as you didn't say anything about it——!"
"Oh, I don't think they're wicked," said Dorothy placidly. But the 'vert went eagerly on.
"That's just it!" she expounded. "Walter says 'wicked's' only a relative term. If you face the truth boldly, all the time, lots of things wouldn't be wicked at all, he says. And I believe he's really awfully devoted to Laura—in his way—though he does talk about these things with Britomart Belchamber sitting there in her nightgown. But it's always the same bit of truth they face boldly. They never think of going in for astronomy—or crystal-what-is-it—crystallography—or something chilly—and face that boldly——"
Dorothy laughed.—"You absurd girl!"