human
She had on no apron, she told her son that night.
gpt
I don't suppose the poor child owns one, and of course she could not help getting her dress spotted. Her little hands were clean, though, and I think she tries hard. The parlor was all in a whirl of dust. She had just been sweeping, and flirting her broom as people always do who don't know how to sweep. The poor child's hair was white with dust, and I sat down in a heap of it, with my best black silk dress, but of course I wouldn't have seemed to notice it for anything. I brushed it off when I got in the carriage. I said, 'You are doing your work?' And she said, 'Yes, Mrs. Anderson.' She laughed, but she looked sort of pitiful. The poor little thing is tired. She isn't cut out for such work. I said her hands and arms didn't look as if she could sweep very easily, but she bristled right up and said she was very strong, very much stronger than she looked, and papa wanted to get a maid for her, but she preferred doing without one. She wanted the exercise. The way she said _preferred!_ I didn't try to pity her any more, for that. Randolph--
human
What is it, mother?
gpt
How much has that child seen of you?
human
Not so very much, mother. Why?
gpt
I think she thinks a great deal about you.
human
Nonsense, mother!