Was the girl as shallow as she appeared, or was there, beneath her vivid enamel-like surface, some rich plastic substance of character?
Was she worth helping, worth the generous friendship that Corinna could give, or was she merely a bit of human driftwood that would burn out presently in the thin flame of some transient passion?
"I'll take the risk," thought Corinna.

"A risk is worth taking," for there was sporting blood in her veins.

While she sat there in silence, listening to the artless unfolding of the girl's thoughts, she appeared to be searching for the hidden possibilities in that crude young spirit.

So often in the past the older woman had given herself abundantly only to meet disappointment and ingratitude.

Why should it be different now?
What was there in this unformed child that appealed so strongly to her sympathy and tenderness?
Not beauty surely, for Patty was merely pretty.