The girl drew a long breath. Seemingly, after all, the victory was hers.
“Well, what are we going to do about it? We, their friends, have to do something.”
“Yes, that’s the question—what?”
“Margery will never go back now of herself. I know her.”
“No; she’ll never go back of herself, never. Do you blame her?”
No answer. The query was sudden.
“Honest, do you blame her?” insistently.
“I thought I did. I don’t know—I don’t know.”
“Does ‘love, honor, and obey’ mean ‘wash, 181 bake, and scrub’ to a girl who has never in her life before done any of the three?”
Still silence.