“I like New York,” said Eris, shyly.
Mrs. Sniffen’s nose went up with a jerk.
“And sorry I am to hear you say it,” she retorted severely. “Them that has nice clean ’omes in the nice clean countryside don’t realise their blessings, according to my way of thinking.”
“Did you ever live in the country?” ventured Eris.
“Turnham Green, Miss.”
“Where is that?”
“London. It was all dirt and gin and barracks when I was a kiddy. If I’d a pretty ’ome in the nice clean countryside like you, Miss, I’d be biding there yet, no doubt.”
Eris shook her bobbed head: “I had to come where I can have a chance to learn something.”
“And what, may I ask, Miss, would you learn ’ereabouts?” inquired Mrs. Sniffen with elaborate irony. “There’s little to learn in New York that’s good for a body. It’s only a big, ’ot, dirty merry-go-round,—what with the outrageous noise and crowds and hurry and scurry, and wild capers and goings-on. No, Miss, you’ll learn nothing ’elpful ’ere, depend upon it!”
Eris said, thoughtfully: “Only where are many people gathered is there the foundation for a real education.... Good and evil are.... Only truth matters. The important thing is to know.”