“Lise, why don't you say something to your sister? Ain't you glad she's got the place?”
“Sure, I'm glad,” said Lise, and began to unscrew the top of the salt shaker. “I don't see why I couldn't get a raise, too. I work just as hard as she does.”
Edward, who had never got a “raise” in his life, was smitten with compunction and sympathy.
“Give 'em time, Lise,” he said consolingly. “You ain't so old as Janet.”
“Time!” she cried, flaring up and suddenly losing her control. “I've got a picture of Waiters giving me a raise I know the girls that get raises from him.”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Hannah declared. “There—you've spilled the salt!”
But Lise, suddenly bursting into tears, got up and left the room. Edward picked up the Banner and pretended to read it, while Janet collected the salt and put it back into the shaker. Hannah, gathering up the rest of the dishes, disappeared into the kitchen, but presently returned, as though she had forgotten something.
“Hadn't you better go after her?” she said to Janet.
“I'm afraid it won't be any use. She's got sort of queer, lately—she thinks they're down on her.”
“I'm sorry I spoke so sharp. But then—” Hannah shook her head, and her sentence remained unfinished.