I'd draw you if I could." And she glanced at him blushing shyly.

And later on he had a sketch he prized very much: Connie sitting on the stool before the wheel, her flowing mane of red hair on her rusty black frock, her red mouth shut and serious, running the scarlet thread off the hank on to the reel.
With Louie, handsome and brazen, who always seemed to thrust her hip at him, he usually joked.
Emma was rather plain, rather old, and condescending.

But to condescend to him made her happy, and he did not mind.
"How do you put needles in ?" he asked.
"Go away and don't bother." "But I ought to know how to put needles in." She ground at her machine all the while steadily.
"There are many things you ought to know," she replied.
"Tell me, then, how to stick needles in the machine." "Oh, the boy, what a nuisance he is! Why, THIS is how you do it." He watched her attentively.

Suddenly a whistle piped.

Then Polly appeared, and said in a clear voice: "Mr.Pappleworth wants to know how much longer you're going to be down here playing with the girls, Paul." Paul flew upstairs, calling "Good-bye!" and Emma drew herself up.
"It wasn't ME who wanted him to play with the machine," she said.
As a rule, when all the girls came back at two o'clock, he ran upstairs to Fanny, the hunchback, in the finishing-off room.