He looked at her in amazement, displeased. “How much are you getting now?”
“Only eight dollars a week.”
“Only!” Hiram Kemble was satirical. “That’s as much as the others are getting.”
“I know it. But it’s not enough. Our expenses are heavy. My mother has begun to—to—” Elsie choked. “My mother is compelled to take in washing. She’s not strong enough for such heavy work.”
“Your sister has a good job.”
“She earns only nine dollars.”
“Your father—”
Tears sprang to Elsie’s eyes, but she would not let them fall. “He’s not earning anything.”
“I know.” Kemble spoke accusingly. “He is drinking.”