"Henry Whitman, did he go to the Ayres's ?" said she.
Henry, cornered, told the truth.

"Well, I shouldn't wonder," he admitted.
"I think it is pretty work," said Sylvia, angry red spots coming in her cheeks.
Henry said nothing.
"The idea that a young man can't be in the house with a girl any longer than this without his fairly chasing her," said Sylvia.
"Who knows that he is ?" "Do you think he is interested in the Ayres girl ?" "No, I don't." "Then it is Rose," said Sylvia.

"Pretty work, I call it.

Here she is with her own folks in this nice home, with everything she needs." Henry looked at Sylvia with astonishment.

"Why," he said, "girls get married! You got married yourself." "I know I did," said Sylvia, "but that hasn't got anything to do with it.