“Boils,” I remarked, “are disfiguring, when they come to a head.”
There was a pause. “How is your child-labour bill?” she asked, abruptly.
“Why, it’s all right.”
“Didn’t I see a letter in the paper saying it had been referred to a sub-committee, some trick to suppress it for this session?”
I could not answer. I had been hoping she had not seen that letter.
“If I were to come forward now,” she said, “I could possibly block that move, couldn’t I?”
Still I said nothing.
“If I were to take a bold stand—I mean if I were to speak at a public meeting, and denounce the move.”
“I suppose you could,” I had to admit.
For a long time she sat with her head bowed. “The children will have to wait,” she said, at last, half to herself.