against me, worrying me. Conroy was drinking and quarrelling with me. I was worried about them at home. Mother's ill and they blame me for it—my father does. I didn't care, as long as I knew you were coming. I wouldn't give up"
"Well," she said, putting all that aside, "what do you think I can do?"
"You can do what Miss Morris has been doing. There's nothing to be ashamed of in this extra work. Perhaps Kidder can get you in 'The Rajah's Ruby' with me. You can go on studying your music and your singing."
"But five or six dollars wouldn't pay my board."
"That's only the beginning. I'm getting ten a week already. You can work up into some of the smaller parts. Besides, you don't have to board. We—Conroy and Pittsey and I—have been living for about five dollars a week each, and I believe I can do it for less, where I am now."
She said, out of her thoughts: "It's horrible to be poor!"
"It's not as horrible here as it would be at home."
"No." She sat down, sighing with the inward tension of anxiety. "I'd do anything rather than that. . . . It would be Miss Cary's place. She used to be music teacher at Saint Kitt's, and took us out for our walks, like a governess. . . . Who's Mr. Kidder?"
"He's the agent—the man who engages the extras. We had better go right away. There may be something waiting now."
