"German?" says Ma. "Of course!"
"Swedish," says Anna, more lumpishly than ever.
And just at that moment the air was filled with a big laugh that none of us there had give voice to. It was some shock, that laugh, and Ma and me looked around expecting to see who had come into the room, but it was nobody. Anna was the only one who didn't seem disturbed. She just went on sitting.
"Who was that?" says Ma.
"It must of been outside," I says, for it was warm and we had the windows open so's to let in the gasoline and railroad smoke and a little fresh air.
"I guess so," says Ma. Then she went back to her third-degree.
"So you're Swedish!" says Ma. "Can you cook?"
"Good!" says Anna. "Svell cook!"
"Well, dearie!" says Ma, "why was it you left your last place?"
"Too hot!" says Anna. And again me and Ma exchanged glances.