Ellen Wilson:  Phoebe ! Phoebe !
Phoebe Wilson: Yes , what is it ?
Ellen Wilson: You should have lent a hand at the salvage depot , they could do with help on Saturday afternoon . What do you make of this ?
Phoebe Wilson: It 's meant for me .
Ellen Wilson: I thought it was for Fennis . That 's why I opened it . What do they mean by your application for work ?
Phoebe Wilson: I think Mr Durham must have arranged it for me . I asked him to .
Ellen Wilson: You know your father would n't let you take it .
Phoebe Wilson: I 'm going to take it .
Ellen Wilson: How can you ? It 's on Monday . You 've got to go to Bond Street .
Phoebe Wilson: If I were to say that you were in bed that day with a bad chill , Felicia would let me stay away . I 'd phone her .
Ellen Wilson: You must be mad , Phoebe - telling deliberate , downright lies .
Phoebe Wilson: Mummy , you must help me . You must !
Ellen Wilson: No , Phoebe . You must drop the whole idea .
Phoebe Wilson: So I 'm not even allowed one day 's crowd work ? I 've got to plod along on three pounds a week while my thirteen year old sister gets _ fifty _ ? Mother , you 've no right to refuse to help me . You 've always encouraged me to want something out of life . Nothing was too good for me , until Fennis got her contract . Now you do n't care what happens to me .
Ellen Wilson: Phoebe , it 's not true .
Phoebe Wilson: It is . If I speak to you , you do n't listen . You just sit staring at Fen ' as though she 's the centre of all creation . You almost croon over her beastly press cuttings . You watch every mouthful she eats . You sit for hours gloating over her pictures ...
Ellen Wilson: It 's not true , not one word of it .
Phoebe Wilson: You know it is , Mummy ... and I wo n't stand for it any longer . I wo n't ! I wo n't !