Randy hugged his knee and meditated. "But there are lots of rich women who wouldn't dust a room."
She made a gesture of disdain. "Oh, that kind of rich people."
"What kind?"
"The kind that aren't used to their money. Who think ladies—are idle. Sister Loretto says that is the worst kind—the awful kind. She talked
to me every day about it. She said that money was a curse when people used it only for their ease. Sister Loretto hates laziness. She had money herself before she took her vows, but now she works every hour of the day and she says it brings her happiness."
Randy shook his head. "Most of us need to play around a bit, Becky."
"Do we? I—I think most women would be better off if they were like Sister Loretto."
"They would not. Stop talking rot, Becky, and take that thing off your head. It makes you look like a nun."
"I know. I saw myself in the glass. I don't mind looking like a nun, Randy."
"Well, I mind. Turn your head and I'll take out that pin."