“What may I call you?” he asked.
“Sadie Hansen’s my name.”
“All right, Sadie; let me ask you just one question: would the old folks take you back if you should go home now?”
“They—they’ve never quit writin’ me and beggin’ me to come. If they knew where I am now.... My God—it would kill ’em!”
“Don’t cry any more; it’s all right. You are not going to stay here.”
“But I’ve got to stay. That woman down-stairs says she paid my fare out here, and she’ll make me stay till I can pay her back!”
“Never mind about that. Have you unpacked your trunk?”
“No.”
“That’s good.” He rose and looked at his watch. “Wash your face and comb your hair as quickly as you can. Have you had any supper?”
“No; I couldn’t eat anything if I’d die for it.”