And at a long oak table, one of a dozen women and girls, Ethel folded envelopes and addressed them for about three hours.

Down at the end, two girl companions chatted and laughed at their labour.

But the rest were just busy.
"Hand me those envelopes, if you please." And so it was all through the room.

She came back the next morning and the next; and as she worked, her expression was grim.

"It isn't their fault," she decided.