"Well, I hope so, but there's not much chance at this season," said the woman. "Six dollars a week was better than nothing. It's more than I can make by taking in washing."
"Oh, you surely won't have to do that!" cried Faith involuntarily. She had been listening to their conversation without realizing it.
The woman glanced up at her and gave a sharp laugh.
"That, or worse," she said coarsely. "I can't starve to death, can I?"
There was no mistaking what she meant. Her words sent a thrill of horror through every fibre of Faith's body.
"She surely did not mean that," she whispered to Miss Jennings as soon as the saleswoman had gone.
"Why not?" asked Miss Jennings in her bitterest manner.
For the second time that day Faith drew back with swift motion, but this time her companion did not appear to notice it.
"She's got a sick husband and three children," she said sharply; "and it's no fault of hers that she can't earn an honest living. I tell you, Faith, that you have lots to learn. I'm sorry you must learn it all in a lump, of course, but the sooner it is learned the sooner you'll get used to it."
She breathed a deep sigh as she turned away. For a moment her real feeling showed above her indifference.