She did not, therefore, reply in words, but gave a noncommittal grunt.
"I thought," said Mrs.Jim Jones, driven to her last gun, "that you and Mr.Whitman had inherited enough to make you comfortable for life, and I felt real bad to find out you hadn't." Sylvia turned a little pale, but her gaze never flinched.

She grunted again.
"I supposed," said Mrs.Jim Jones, mouthing her words with intensest relish, "that there wouldn't be any need for Mr.Whitman to work any more, and when I heard he was going back to the shop, and when I saw him turn in there this morning, I declare I did feel bad." Then Sylvia spoke.

"You needn't have felt bad," said she.

"Nobody asked you to." Mrs.Jim Jones stared.
"Nobody asked you to," repeated Sylvia.

"Nobody is feeling at all bad here.