“I don't know exactly what I am,” she replied.
“Why not?” asked the Indian Gentleman.
The monkey gave a tiny squeak, and Sara stroked him.
“At first,” she said, “I was a pupil and a parlor boarder; but now—”
“What do you mean by `at first'?” asked the Indian Gentleman.
“When I was first taken there by my papa.”
“Well, what has happened since then?” said the invalid, staring at her and knitting his brows with a puzzled expression.
“My papa died,” said Sara. “He lost all his money, and there was none left for me—and there was no one to take care of me or pay Miss Minchin, so—”
“So you were sent up into the garret and neglected, and made into a half-starved little drudge!” put in the Indian Gentleman. “That is about it, isn't it?”
The color deepened on Sara's cheeks.