"You have, Honor! You have! You've never been a comfort to me—not since you were a tiny child. And even then you were tomboyish and rough and queer."
"I know, Muzzie."
"I never heard of anything so brazen in all my life—running after him to Mexico—to visit people you never laid eyes on in all your days, utter strangers to you——"
"Jimsy's aunt and uncle, Muzzie."
"Utter strangers to you, forcing yourself upon them, without even telegraphing to know if they can have you——"
"No. I don't want Jimsy to know I'm coming."
"Where's your pride, Honor Carmody? When he's done such dreadful things and got himself expelled from college—a young man never lives that down as long as he lives!—and gone the way of all the 'Wild Kings,' and hasn't even written to you! That's the thing I can't understand—your running after him when he's dropped you—gone without a word or a line to you."
"He may have written, Muzzie. Letters are lost, you know, sometimes."
"Very seldom. Very seldom!" Mrs. Lorimer hotly proclaimed her faith in her government's efficiency. "I haven't lost three letters in forty years. No. He's jilted you, Honor. That's the ugly, shameful truth, and you're too blind to see it. If you knew the things Carter told his mother——"