“Yes,” said Susan after various explanations and exhibitions, “but where’s the home in it?”
“The whole thing is a home.”
“Barracks I call it,” said Susan. “Nobody ever felt at home in a room coloured up like that—and no curtains, nor vallances, nor toilet covers, nor anywhere where a girl can hang a photograph or anything. What girl’s going to feel at home in a strange place like that?”
“They ought to be able to hang up photographs,” said Lady Harman, making a mental note of it.
“And of course there’ll be all sorts of Rules.”
“Some rules.”
“Homes, real homes don’t have Rules. And I daresay—Fines.”
“No, there shan’t be any Fines,” said Lady Harman quickly. “I’ll see to that.”
“You got to back up rules somehow—once you got ’em,” said Susan. “And when you get a crowd, and no father and mother, and no proper family feeling, I suppose there’s got to be Rules.”
Lady Harman pointed out various advantages of the project.