“It all ended—last spring. Go away, Jimmie. I don’t want to talk about it. Least of all—to you.”
“I think I’d like to look up Harry someday—if you ever want to see him again, and if you’ll tell me more about him.”
Sarah sat up and sniffled. “You mean you’d help me—against the whole family? ”
“Is he a nice guy, sis?”
“He’s wonderful!”
“If he is—if you’re serious, if he’s serious—I’ll certainly help you. Against the family. Against the world.” She was staring at him with widening eyes. He opened the door. “I don’t like people being pushed around,” he said. “Except as an extreme defense measure.”
When he walked into Mr. Corinth’s office he was busy with the reflection that it took intense misery to bring the truth up out of the hearts of most people. He set down the books and smiled at the old man. “Sorry I was gone so long. Your truckman had quite a nap. You see—I caught Sarah reading these things.” He kept smiling in spite of the startled look in the old man’s eyes. “Sarah’s first notion was that she could use her information as a sort of club. I had a hard time dissuading her.”
Mr. Corinth’s alarm did not abate. “She’ll betray you, Jimmie! That’s a terrible thing! The girl is unhappy—and bitter! I’ve seen her about a good deal—!”
“She won’t betray me—or Audrey.”
“How can you be sure?”