MRS. ABNER. She's a mean one, ain't she? I gained this week--half a
pound. Lord, I'm gittin' fat! All my clothes are gittin' too small for
me. Don't know what I'll do. Did you lose much, dearie?
EILEEN. Three pounds.
MRS. ABNER. Ain't that awful! (_Hastening to make up for this
thoughtless remark._) All the same, what's three pounds! You can git
them back in a week after you're resting more. You been runnin' a temp,
too, ain't you? (_Eileen nods._) Don't worry about it, dearie. It'll go
down. Worryin's the worst. Me, I don't never worry none. (_She chuckled
with satisfaction--then soberly._) I just been talkin' with Bailey.
She's got to go to bed, too, I guess. She lost two pounds. She ain't
runnin' no temp though.