'In the legs,' she said after a pause.
'Ah, swellings?'
Victoria bridled a little. This man was laying bare something, tearing at a secret.
'Are you a doctor, Mr Farwell?' she asked coldly.
'That's all right,' he said roughly, 'it doesn't need much learning to know what's the matter with a girl who stands for eleven hours a day. Are the veins of your legs swollen?'
'Yes,' said Victoria with an effort. She was frightened; she forgot to resent this wrenching at the privacy of her body.
'Ah; when do they hurt?'
'At night. They're all right in the morning.'
'You've got varicose veins, Victoria. You must give up your job.'
'I can't,' whispered the girl hoarsely. 'I've got nothing else.'