"It's done."
"All right, turn it out to cool," said Mrs. Stanley without looking up from her work.
The whole mess was turned into a pail the next minute, and then the girl lounged off to join her companions, who were quarrelling with some boys of the party over the division of some apples one of them had stolen from a neighbouring orchard.
After a little while, Mrs. Stanley turned and glanced at Lizzie still sitting listlessly in the doorway.
"You can come out of that now," she said gruffly.
But Lizzie had no desire to be seen in her present costume, and said rather shortly, "I don't want to."
"That don't matter. You come out as I tell you, and go and give yourself a good wash in that pail," nodding as she spoke to where the girl had emptied the contents of the pot.
Lizzie looked alarmed. She had always prided herself on her white skin, and she knew the juice of walnut shells would stain it brown.
"Come on," called the woman roughly, seeing her hesitate.
The girl came slowly down the steps.