But Mrs.
Whaley says the school's so full that her Tommy can only go
afternoons."
Robin remembered Beryl pointing out a dingy brick building as the
schoolhouse. It had a play-yard enclosed on three sides with a high
board fence, disfigured by much scrawling. It had seemed an ugly spot.
She thought of that now.
"And what do the girls--the girls like me--do?"
"Oh, they mostly work. After work? Well, they help at home and do a bit
of sewing maybe and some have beaux and they walk down to the drug store
and hang around there visiting, though Beryl doesn't. 'Tisn't much of a
life a girl in a place like this has," and Mrs. Moira's sigh was happily
reminiscent of her own girlhood in open clean spaces, "it's old they
grow before their time."
"They don't have much fun, do they?" Robin asked.
Mrs. Lynch looked at her curiously. "Fun? They work so hard that they
haven't the gumption to start the fun. But it's so big the world is,
Miss Robin, that it can't all be rosy. Sure, there has to be some dark
corners."
"Mrs. Lynch, if--if--someone started the fun for the girls--would they
like it?"
"Why, what's on your mind, dearie? The likes of you worryin' your little
head over things you don't know anything about!"
Robin could have cried with vexation.
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