"And not one of them cared the slightest bit about me."
"But, Betty, dear, that's just what I mean. Why should you say that? How can you know?"
"How do I know? Well, I do know. Instinct, I suppose. The instinct of self-preservation which nature gives hunted animals. I can't think of a single man in the world—except your Marvin, of course—who wouldn't do anything for money." She stopped. "Well, yes, one."
Elsa leaned forward eagerly.
"Who, Betty?"
"You don't know him."
"But what's his name?"
Betty hesitated.
"Well, if I am on the witness-stand—Maude."
"Maude? I thought you said a man?"