been the worst of the whole crowd to Alice, every time she could see a chance."
"What for?" Adams asked, incredulously. "Why should she or anybody else pick on Alice?"
"'Why?' 'What for?'" his wife repeated with a greater vehemence. "Do you ask me such a thing as that? Do you really want to know?"
"Yes; I'd want to know—I would if I believed it."
"Then I'll tell you," she said in a cold fury. "It's on account of you, Virgil, and nothing else in the world."
He hooted at her. "Oh, yes! These girls don't like me, so they pick on Alice."
"Quit your palavering and evading," she said. "A crowd of girls like that, when they get a pretty girl like Alice among them, they act just like wild beasts. They'll tear her to pieces, or else they'll chase her and run her out, because they know if she had half a chance she'd outshine 'em. They can't do that to a girl like Mildred Palmer because she's got money and family to back her. Now you listen to me, Virgil Adams: the way the world is now, money is family. Alice would have just as much 'family' as any of 'em—every single bit—if you hadn't fallen behind in the race."
