"You look like it," said Carrie. "What is the matter?"
"I am looking for some money."
"Money? What money are you likely to have?"
"Well, it so happens that I have some—a good deal. Carrie have you seen it?"
"Have I seen what?" asked Carrie in a provokingly drawling voice.
"Why, my money. How did you think I got that dress, that dress which you are racking through at such a furious pace?"
Carrie was attired in the pale blue nun's-veiling. It was Carrie's way to have a dress and to wear it morning, noon, and night, destroying all its freshness. The nun's-veiling was already dirty and draggled-looking.
"How do you think I got that dress that you made such a fuss about if I had not money to pay for it?"
"I am sure I couldn't tell, and what's more, I didn't care," said Carrie. "What is vexing you now, Elma? Oh! what a commotion you are making in your poor drawer!"
"I have just lost seven sovereigns and—Carrie, I see by your face that you do know something about it. Is it possible that you stole the money?"