At home again Theodosia selected the clothing at once, some delicately embroidered undergarments of silk, presents from Ruth and Jane. Beyond her interest in the clothing she could not have a mind for any other matter, and she sat beyond the curtains of an upper window looking down on the street unseen, her eyes unseeing, nor would she answer any voice that called up the steps to her. She carried the garments to Hill Street the day after her first visit there. The small house was heavy with steam and the odors of human sweat, of drying clothing. She was fearful of Lethe, but she had gone in the early morning with the hope of seeing her. Americy was cordial in her greeting. She leaned over the clothing admiringly or she appraised the pieces to make an estimate of the time they would require. “If five’s too many,” Theodosia said, “I’ll leave only four, or maybe three. How about four?” “I’d as lief do five as not. Leave all, you can. I don’t mind.” Lethe had come out of the kitchen and stood behind them. When Theodosia turned about she was standing near looking over their arms at the garments tossed upon the table. She was a matured woman, heavy-breasted but light on her feet. Theodosia saw that she had not remembered her face accurately, that she had remembered it too much in its attitude of unpassionate refusal. Lethe was larger than Americy, more settled and determined by life. Her hands were long, making long lines where they lay, the one on her breast and the other at her hip, strong hands, but little marked by their labor. Her face was long and was pointed slightly at the chin, a heavy face, moving from moment to moment, changing from curiosity, suspicion, hate, admiration, undefined emotions blended and divided. She was darker than Americy. Her hair was combed back and parted, but a few black kinky spirals of it resisted the parting and lay on her forehead. She looked from Theodosia to the clothing on the table, back and forth, and said in a low voice that came from one corner of her lips: “What is it she wants, Americy?” “She wants these-here pieces washed.” “Charge her a plenty,” she said. “I’ll pay money,” Theodosia said, and she was ashamed then that she had proposed any other bargain. She turned to Americy and said, “What’s it worth, those pieces?” “Miss Theodosia said she’d teach me how to play,” Americy said. “What does she want here?” Lethe said. “Have you time enough to play the chords now, Americy?” Theodosia asked quickly. “Get the guitar. Where is it?”