George asked. He had been anticipating his breakfast almost as much as Monty, and to be ordered to fill the wash pot and search out every piece of clothing they owned before they could eat made him irritable. “I thought about that,” Rose said, “but what’s to keep everybody here after they’ve eaten?” “You could ask them.” “I could,” Rose admitted, “but it’s easier to do it now.” “Are you going to let her get away with this?” Monty demanded. “Get away with what?” George asked, his temper short. “You voted to hire a housekeeper. The washing is part of her duties. If you want the job done, you’ve got to let her do it.” “Then let her do it herself. I don’t mean to stop her.” “You don’t mind her going through your things?” It was obvious that thought hadn’t occurred to Monty. “I don’t want anybody going through mine,” Hen stated. “She can do anything she wants with my clothes,” Zac said. “I don’t even like to wear them.” “Ain’t no woman touching anything that belongs to me,”
