"I don't know their fathers' names—their fathers aren't here."
"Oh!" Mrs. Smith leaned back in her chair as if she were especially weary.
"They live in the cottage that was burned yesterday."
"They do! I wonder, then, if it wasn't one of them that brought a little boy to the art store while the fire was going on."
"Did she call him Dicky?"
"Did the girl have blue eyes or brown?"
"I didn't notice—or, yes, I believe I did—they were blue."
"That was Ethel Blue, then. They call the other one Ethel Brown to tell them apart. This morning they didn't come to the club because they had so much to do to put their new cottage in order, but Ethel Brown ran in just for a minute to ask me if I could cook some special things for her grandfather while he was sick. He was hurt yesterday at the fire."
"Oh, poor man."