![]() ![]() “She’s a bit of a wag sports with every new girl that comes along. “Don’t listen to her,” piped up a calm new voice. The potatoes were turning black at breakfast.” Lovey broke into giggles. Her bandbox, more books in it than clothes. She untied her green cloak and folded it carefully at the end of the bed. “Parsnips and potatoes.” Alice’s stomach lurched slightly. Then more gently, “You’ve come a long way to get here this late. They’d better not try squeezing in another bed.” Welcome to Boott Boardinghouse, number fifty-two, your new home. “What’s your name?” she said into the dim light, in the direction of the most friendly voice. She counted: she had to crawl over five almost invisible people before she got to the last bed in this small dormitory. ![]() She’s got to take the far bed, I’m not giving up this one,” declared the first voice, now on the edge of indignation.Īlice began climbing over the still, shadowy figures, unnerved by their smothered giggles and deliberate pokes from unseen feet. ![]() “Lordy, another one.” This was a second voice, bouncy and light, with a hint of mischief. I’m from New Hampshire, here to work.” It didn’t seem enough, but she was worn to the bone from her long coach ride to this gritty, bustling mill town that promised so much. The air was close, aromatic with the scent of warm bodies. ![]() An oil lamp flickered, turned so low she could see no more than a line of cots squeezed close together in a long, narrow room. Alice stepped gingerly into the darkened dormitory, holding her breath against the unexpected. ![]()
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