"Didn't the Old Man meet you on the stairs?" demanded Edna in a frightened breath.
"Nope: I waited till he'd turned the corner," Joan returned defiantly. "Anyway I ain't afraid of him. What'd he say, last night, after I was gone?"
Edna started to speak, stammered and fell still, turning a timid gaze to her mother.
"No more'n he said before you went out," said the latter listlessly. "He won't hear of your coming back—"
"A lot I care!" Joan retorted with a fling of her head. "All I'm after's my things. I've done enough for this family.... Now I'm going to look out for Number One."
The mother made no response. She seemed no longer to see Joan, whose bosom swelled and palpitated with a suddenly-acquired sense of personal grievance.
"I've done enough!" she repeated mutinously.
Edna said in a tremulous voice: "I don't know what we'll do without you—"
"Do as I done!" Joan broke in hotly. "Go out and get a job and slave all day long so's your father won't have to support his family. Go on and try it: I'm sick and tired of it!"
She turned and strode angrily into the front rooms. Edna followed, awed but inquisitive.