Visiting register offices, seeing all manner of unlikely people, and very few in the least likely, absorbed Margaret's time and thoughts for several days. One afternoon she met Bessy Higgins in the street, and stopped to speak to her.
"Well, Bessy, how are you? Better, I hope, now the wind has changed."
"Better and not better, if yo' know what that means."
"Not exactly," replied Margaret, smiling.
"I'm better in not being torn to pieces by coughing o' nights, but I'm weary and tired o' Milton, and longing to get away to the land o' Beulah? and when I think I'm farther and farther off, my heart sinks, and I'm no better; I'm worse."

Visiting agencies and interviewing unlikely people absorbed Margaret's time and thoughts for several days.
One afternoon she met Bessy Higgins in the street, and stopped to speak to her.
'Well, Bessy, how are you? Better, I hope.'
'Better and not better, if yo' know what that means.'
'Not exactly,' replied Margaret, smiling.
'I'm better in not being torn to pieces by coughing o'nights, but I'm weary and tired o' Milton, and longing to get away to heaven; and when I think I'm farther off, my heart sinks, and I'm no better; I'm worse.'
