"Where were you last night?" she asked.
"Here in the woods."
Remembering the manner of night it was, Jo shivered and her face hardened.
"Were they cruel to you over there?" she said gruffly.
"Do you mean, did they beat me? No, they didn't beat my body, but they beat something else, something inside of me, all out of shape. They tried to make me into something I am not, something I do not want to be. They, they flattened me out. They were always teaching me, teaching me."
There was a comical fierceness in the words. Jo Morey recognized the spirit back of it and set her jaw.
"I never saw you at the Home," she said; "I've often been there."
"They only show the good ones—the ones they can be sure of. I took care of the babies when I wasn't being punished, locked up, you know. You see, I learned and could teach."
"They locked you up?" Mam'selle and the child were being drawn close by ties that neither understood.
"Yes, to keep me from running away. You're not going to tell them about me, are you?"