"A joke? You pound that typewriter—for a joke?"
"Why—er—I do it to help Mr. Baxter."
Hester studied Betty silently, then, in a cold, even tone, "Say, lady, you'll have to show me. I'm in bad myself and—I want to know about you. Ain't this Mr. Baxter that you're tryin' to help, ain't he a rich man?"
"Yes, but—Mr. Baxter has had losses in business and—he has enemies and—— Oh, you wouldn't understand! You can't understand!"
Hester turned away and walked toward the conservatory. She must think. After all it was none of her business why Elizabeth Thompson was doing Baxter's secretary work. Hester was at Ipping House for the golf bag and for nothing else, and straightway she returned to her original plan of propitiating Miss Thompson and thus establishing herself in the Baxter household.
"All right, lady," she said, softening her tone, "I'll take your word for it, but—if you've had troubles yourself you know how I feel and—all I ask is a chance to work and—make a living."
"What kind of work can you do?"
"Sewing, all kinds of sewing and—I can trim hats. I make all my own things. I made this dress and this cloak."
"Really! I think your cloak is very smart," and Hester reflected that it might well be, seeing that she had paid five hundred francs for it on the Rue de la Paix.
"I suppose I could recommend you to Mrs. Baxter and the other ladies," hesitated Betty, "for sewing and mending, only—there's our meeting on the train—it's very awkward."