"I never wake up," said Lala. "Do you, Marian?"
"Yes, and I'm lonesome without all the little girls. Sometimes I'm so frightened I pretty nearly die when I'm all alone and it's dark."
"Little girls," echoed Lala, "what little girls? Where did you live before you came here?"
"When I was good I lived in a big city, Lala."
"Tell me about it," the girl insisted.
"If you'll promise you won't ever tell, I will," declared Marian. "I'll have to whisper it. I lived in a beautiful orphan's home, Lala."
"Oh!" exclaimed Lala. "Oh, you poor baby."
"Of course it's dreadful," Marian hastened to say, "but I couldn't help it, Lala, truly I couldn't; they took me there when I was a baby and it was a lovely place, only, it was a Home."
"Do you know anything about your father and mother?"
"Oh, I guess they're dead—my mother is anyway, and I'm 'fraid about my father."