this community, and she had a New England horror of it. She looked at Zora disapprovingly, while Zora looked at her quite impersonally, but steadily. Then Miss Taylor braced herself, mentally, and took the war into Africa.
“Do you ever tell lies, Zora?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you know that is a wicked, bad habit?”
“Why?”
“Because God hates them.”
“How does you know He does?” Zora’s tone was still impersonal.
“He hates all evil.”
“But why is lies evil?”
“Because they make us deceive each other.”
“Is that wrong?”
“Yes.”
Zora bent forward and looked squarely into Miss Taylor’s blue eyes. Miss Taylor looked into the velvet blackness