“Sophia says?—wait, books?” Eleanor put her glass down and gave Eden a curious look.
“She read the German one too—some of it—in the library. She couldn’t take it out.” Eden finished the wine in her own glass and Eleanor’s kitchen maid stepped to the table to refill it.
“She read Dr. Krafft-Ebbing in the German?” Eleanor asked, incredulous.
“And Latin, she said,” Eden added.
“And Latin.” Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “And Dr. Sophia has concluded that the books are rubbish then?”
“She didn’t say that! She says that a doctor who has never met me could not diagnose me as defective. She says I’m just as I ought to be. She says…” Eden stopped, because what Sophia had said after that would undoubtedly damage Eleanor’s opinion of Miss Abington’s objectivity.
What Eden didn’t know was that Eleanor had already dismissed the possibility that Sophia Abington was remotely objective on the topic of Eden Smith.
Eden looked earnestly at her potatoes, but couldn’t prevent a smile from crossing her face, “I guess maybe so,” she admitted.