"Yes, I do."
"You mean to say he never even kissed you?"
"Kissed me!—of course not!—how dare you, Awdrey!"
"My dear child, you play the injured innocence game very well, but when you make out you don't know what sort of man Furlonger is, you're carrying it a bit too far."
"Of course, I know he's been in prison," and Tony sobbed drily, "but as for kissing me, I'm sure he's not as bad as that."
"Are you trying to be funny?" asked Awdrey sharply.
Tony only sniffed in reply, and her sister's gaze wandered round the windy, austere room, resting on the few photographs of school-girl friends on the mantelpiece.
"I suppose you're in earnest," she said, after a pause, "but really, you're the weirdest thing, even in flappers, I've ever met. Perhaps in time you'll realise that even such a heinous crime as a kiss is a degree better than robbing a few score poor widows of their savings."
Tony stopped crying suddenly, and a quiver passed through her. The expression of her eyes changed.