? You got one bum lamp right now."

"Worse things than having trouble with your eyes, Annie."

"Huh! It'll help you a lot to have your eyes go worse, won't it?"

"But I can't forget. I--I can't seem to forget Dan, my brother."
Mary's voice trailed off vaguely. "He's the last kin I had. Well, I
was all he had, his next of kin, so they sent me his decoration. And
I'm the last of our family--and a woman--and--and not seeing very well.
Annie, he was my reliance--and I was his, poor boy, because of his
trouble, that made him a half-cripple, though he got into the flying
corps at last. I'm alone. And, Annie--that was what was the trouble
at the store. I'm--it's my _eyes_."

They both sat for a long time in silence. Her room-mate fidgeted
about, walked away, fiddled with her hair before the dull little mirror
at the dresser. At length she turned.

"Sis," said she, "it ain't no news. I know, and I've knew it. I got
to talk some sense to you."

The dark glasses turned her way, unwaveringly, bravely.

"You're going to lose your job, Sis, as soon as the Christmas rush is
over," Annie finished. She saw the sudden shudder which passed through
the straight figure beside the stove.

"Oh, I know it's hard, but it's the truth. Now, listen. Your folks
are all dead. Your last one, Dan, your brother, is dead, and you got
no one else. It's just as well to face things. What I've got is
yours, of course, but how much have we got, together? What chanct has
a girl got? And a blind woman's a beggar, Sis. It's tough. But what
are you going to _do_? Girls is flocking back out of Washington. The
war factories is closing. There's thousands on the streets."

"Annie, what do you _mean_?"

"Oh, now, hush, Sis! Don't look at me that way, even through your
glasses. It hurts. We've just got to face things. You've got to
live. How?"

"Well, then," said Mary Warren, suddenly rising, her hands to her hot
cheeks, "well, then--and what then? I can't be a burden on you--you've
done more than your half ever since I first had to go to the doctor
about my eyes."

"Cut all that out, now," said Annie, her eyes ominous. "I done what
you'd a-done. But one girl can't earn enough for two, at ten per, and
be decent. Go out on the streets and see the boys still in their
uniforms. Every one's got a girl on his arm, and the best lookers,
too. What then? As for the love and marriage stuff--well----"

"As though you didn't