“Now, I should say that that’s one thing you couldn’t do, dear. If you took up this at all you’d find it so absorbing––”
“And you’re very unhappy too, aren’t you? I’ve always heard you were.”
“Well, that would depend a good deal on yourself. There’s nothing in the thing itself to make you unhappy; but sometimes there are other women––”
Letty’s eyes were flaming. “They say they’re awful.”
“Oh, not always. It’s a good deal as you carry yourself. I made it a point to keep my position and respect the position of others. It wasn’t always easy, 321 especially with Mary Ann Courage and Janie Cakebread; but––”
Letty’s head fell back on the pillow. Her eyes closed. A merry-go-round was spinning in her head. Where was she? How had she come there? What was she there for? Where was the wickedness she had been told to look for everywhere? Having gone in search of it, and expected to find it lying in wait from the first minute of passing the protecting door, she had been shuffled along from one to another, with exasperating kindness, only to be brought face to face with Jane Cakebread and Mary Ann Courage at the end.
Miss Towell having borne away the tray, Letty struggled out of bed, and put on the woollen dressing gown thrown over a chair by the bedside. This was no place for her. Beehive Valley was not far off, and her forty-five cents would more than suffice to take her there. She would see the casting director. She would get a job. With food to eat and a place to sleep as a starting point she would find her own way to wickedness, releasing the prince in spite of all the mishaps which kept her as she was.
But she trembled so that having wrapped the dressing gown about her she was obliged to sit down again. She would have to be crafty. She must get this woman to help her with her dressing, without suspecting what she meant to do. How could she manage that? She must try to think.
She was trying to think when she heard the ring of the telephone. It suggested an idea. Some time—not this time, of course—when the telephone rang and 322 the woman was answering it, she, Letty, would be able to slip away. The important thing was to do her hair and get her clothes on.
“Yes?... Yes?” There was a little catch to the breath, a smothered laugh, a smothered sigh. “Oh, so this is you!... Yes, I got it.... Seeing it again gave me quite a turn.... I never expected that you’d keep it all this time, but.... Yes, she’s here.... No; she didn’t come exactly of her own accord, but I—I found her.... I could tell you about it easier if you were—it’s so hard on the telephone when there’s so much to say—but perhaps you don’t care to.... Yes, she’s quite well—only a little tired—been worked up somehow—but a day or so in bed.... Oh, very sensible ... and she wants me to teach her how to be a lady’s maid....”