The silence in the room was not broken for several minutes.  Bertha continued to draw her needle in and out of the little socks she was darning.  Once or twice she glanced out of the open window, and once or twice she cast a long, sly glance in the direction of Florence's bent head.  The scratch of Florence's pen over the paper now and then reached her ears.  At last Florence stopped her work abruptly, leant back in her chair, stretched out her arms behind her head, uttered a profound yawn which ended in a sigh, and then, turning round, she spoke.