don't, when you'se afeared of them and thinks they may rub off and dirty
you?"

"Why--why--yes, if you--if you, deceive."

"Then you lies sometimes, don't you?"

Miss Taylor stared helplessly at the solemn eyes that seemed to look so
deeply into her.

"Perhaps--I do, Zora; I'm sure I don't mean to, and--I hope God will
forgive me."

Zora softened.

"Oh, I reckon He will if He's a good God, because He'd know that lies
like that are heaps better than blabbing the truth right out. Only," she
added severely, "you mustn't keep saying it's wicked to lie 'cause it
ain't. Sometimes I lies," she reflected pensively, "and sometimes I
don't--it depends."

Miss Taylor forgot her collar, and fingered the pin on the desk. She
felt at once a desperate desire to know this girl better and to
establish her own authority. Yet how should she do it? She kept toying
with the pin, and Zora watched her. Then Miss Taylor said, absently:

"Zora, what do you propose to do when you grow up?"

Zora considered.