"Who do you s'pose she will get?" persisted Tobias.
"How d' you s'pose I know?" snapped the girl.
"P'r'aps Mrs. Wood might let her do her clothes again," suggested Antonio, in wheedling tones.
"Mrs. Wood?" asked Peace, rousing suddenly to speech. "My Mrs. Wood?"
Seven dirty, frowsy heads nodded solemnly.
"Is your mother her washwoman?"
"She used to be," the whole line chorused.
"Why ain't she now?"
"'Cause Mrs. Wood quit her."
"But what for?"