"Is that sufficient reason for such strenuous and persistent efforts on your part?"
"That—and hatred for Langly," she said stolidly.
"Just those three reasons?"
"Certainly. Just those three."
He shook his head.
"Do you disbelieve me?" she demanded.
"I am compelled to—knowing that never in all your life have you made the slightest effort in behalf of friendship—never inconvenienced yourself in the least for the sake of anybody on earth."
She stared at him, amazed, then angry, then burst into a loud laugh; but, even while laughing her fat features suddenly altered as though pain had cut mirth short.
"What is the matter?" he said.
"Nothing.... You are the matter.... I've always been fool enough to take you for a fool. You were the only one among us clever enough to read us and remain unread. God! If only some of us could see what we look like in the archives of your brain!... Let it go at that; I don't care what I look like as long as it's a friendly hand that draws my features.... I'm an old woman, remember.... And it is a friendly pencil you wield, isn't it, Ricky?"