"Huh! Yes, mehm." She bridled and twisted. "Six or seben times."
"As Vice-President," said a white-haired woman, standing up suddenly near the desk, "I suggest that it would be a more practical investment of our time if we confine ourselves to finding out what the candidates could do."
"Do you wish me to register this woman as Yellow Sal?" inquired the President, severely.
"Put her down as Sarah Yellow," advised the Vice-President, and resumed her seat.
This passage seemed to unhinge the candidate. The question of what she could do found her relapsed into speechlessness. Even its repetition elicited only twistings and spasmodic grins.
"Come, come," said the President, wearily. "You are a strong, able-bodied woman; you at least can do a good day's work at something. Now, the question is, what?"
Yellow Sal only moved her massive shoulders with an air of conscious power.
"Did you cook?"
"Cook? No, mehm."
She smiled in a superior fashion.