"I suppose you could get a better place if you wanted to, couldn't you?"
"Now you mind your own business, Miss Theresa, and wake Miss Grace. I'll have your breakfasts ready in five minutes. And don't wake your mother. P'raps she's gone off again."
Theresa dragged the bedclothes from a plump and smiling Grace, and put them beyond her reach. "Get up," she said. "This is a nice day. Father's coming home. If he travelled in the night he'll be here at ten, and if he didn't he won't be here till tea. I hope he'll come at ten. I think he will. Oh, do get up. If I were a fairy I'd turn you into that girl with the fat legs."
"You silly!"
"I saw her yesterday, and she'd got a longer skirt on, but it didn't hide them. I can't bear to see her; I think she must be so unhappy. What would you do if you had legs like that?"
"Dance and dance and dance," said Grace, jumping up in the bed and making the springs creak.
"But you couldn't."
"Yes I could. I could dance if I hadn't any legs at all."
"That's stupid. And don't make such a noise. Mother's in bed."
"Then why did you leave the door open and talk so loud?"