"Do you like your job?"
"Very, very much!"
"You do sound 'sif you did, but I sh'd think you'd hate to sit all those little children down to butterless bread and gravyless potato and sugarless mush. Oh, I forgot! That ain't your fault. It's the Lady Board which says what you have to feed your children. Did you ever ask them—the ladies, I mean—to be common visitors and eat just what the rest of you had? I bet if you'd just try that, they'd soon send you something different! I don't see how you stay so fat and rosy with—but then you've only just come, haven't you? I s'pose there's lots of time to get thin in. I wonder if that's what is the matter with Lottie," Peace chattered relentlessly on. "She is awfully ugly today; but then I'd be, too, if I had to live on such grub. It's worse than we had at the little brown house in Parker—"
"If you will slip off that apron and come with me," interrupted the matron desperately, not daring to look at the faces of her dismayed "Lady Board," "we will find Lottie and get your own clothes so you can go home. The next time you come, be sure to get a permit first. Then this trouble won't happen again."
"Oh, will you let me come some more?"
"Aren't you Dr. Campbell's granddaughter? Tony said you were."
"Yes, he's my adopted grandpa now."
"Mrs. Campbell is interested in the Home—"
"Is she a splinter?"
"A what?"