FAITH. Twenty.
COOK. Think of that—and such a life! Now, dearie, I'm your friend. Let the present bury the past—as the sayin' is. Forget all about yourself, and you'll be a different girl in no time.
FAITH. Do you want to be a different woman?
COOK is taken flat aback by so sudden a revelation of the pharisaism of which she has not been conscious.
COOK. Well! You are sharp! [Opening another dresser drawer] Here's the vinegar! And here's the sweets, and [rather anxiously] you mustn't eat them.
FAITH. I wasn't in for theft.
COOK. [Shocked at such rudimentary exposure of her natural misgivings]
No, no! But girls have appetites.
FAITH. They didn't get much chance where I've been.
COOK. Ah! You must tell me all about it. Did you have adventures?
FAITH. There isn't such a thing in a prison.