"Did you marry again?"
"No, sir."
"Mind you," he warned her, "we are going to investigate and if we find out that you have married," and he shook his finger in her face.
"How many children have you?"
"Three—the oldest of them is thirteen."
"And how did you live till now without applying to charity?"
"I worked at the machine."
"Why don't you work now?" and turning to me he explained: "You see? Four years she has worked and supported herself. Now some one has told her of the existence of the charities, so she does not want to work any longer. She thinks she has a good case. A widow—three children—and," whispering in my ears in a confidential tone, "you'll hear her say soon that she is sick—sick—that's what they all claim. All are sick." Meanwhile he cleaned his pipe.
"Well, why don't you answer? Why don't you work now? Tell me—did you get tired—or do you think begging a better trade?"
"I am sick."