"Certainly not as pretty as they are."
"Tell me some more about grandfather, and I'll make toast for tea."
"Isn't that rather wasteful of the butter?" he asked anxiously, conscious that his domestic cares were being doubled by Nancy's inefficiency.
"There's dripping, Bessie told me, from Thursday's beef. That's cheap, isn't it?"
"Yes; I think we can still afford that."
"We're poor, aren't we?"
"Yes, Theresa."
"Well, never mind. I think it's rather nice to be poor, and Grace says she's going to make her fortune. She wants to be a lady in a pantomime. I think she would look lovely. I should like to be one, too, but then I shouldn't look right. I shall have to be something where I don't show. I've decided to write books."
His eyelids flickered. "You will have to work hard at school, then."
"Yes. Would you mind cutting me another piece of bread?" she asked quickly.