the work that suffers,” the fitter had told Mimi on her first day. The other girls obeyed this injunction—to have done otherwise would have brought reproof and in time dismissal. But no sooner did the fitter leave the room than they gushed forth a torrent of whispered comments, of subdued snickering. And even when the coldly efficient fitter was with them but her eyes not upon them, they found ways of communication to relieve the tedium of silence.
Because her wages were small as a finisher and because her need of work was great, Mimi obeyed implicitly the instructions given her. She made few friends, and even these few were kept at a distance. Only one girl progressed beyond the barrier Mimi imposed. Sylvia Smith was the name she gave Mimi, and their tables adjoined.
“How do you like Old Faithful?” Sylvia inquired as she led Mimi to the lunchroom where the girls were provided with tea or coffee at noon while they ate the lunches they had brought.
“Old Faithful?” Mimi, puzzled, inquired.