The black earth bloomed. Jesus was gay, he was a clear young man. With his two hands he touched the shrouded hair of the woman and it streamed like chrysoprase. “Your child has blessed you,” he said. She parted her robe, it was green also: it fell away and she was naked before Jesus. Her belly was silken smooth, her breasts thrust up like buds in a new Spring: she had born no child and she had known no man. Before Christ her body was sweet like a lily at dawn. Fanny pressed her brow with her two hands, and saw the quiet women. They had stopped talking. They looked at her deep, and their voices had lagged away. “O ... you will have tea!” “Thank you, No. I’m afraid--we tire you. We’d better go. You’re not too strong yet.” Susan Sennister got up. Fanny was warm in their understanding, and was ashamed. “O don’t go! You make me feel--I’m a bad substitute for Clara. Please!” Susan sat stiffly, then she relaxed. “You know,” she said, “it seems to me I’ve seen you before.” “And I’ve seen you!” “When was that?” “O ages,” said Fanny.--Am I mad? “Before we were born? And you too, Tessie Liebovitz. You were singing.” “No,” said the girl, serious. “I was playing the violin.” “Your fingers were singing, then.” “They were too small,” said Tessie. “Too small to sing?” “Too small to sing ... too small to sing,” the girl whispered rapt. “So I work--my body, see? It works for my fingers that were too small to play.” “What was I doing?” Susan leaned forward. “Your hands are frightful. One of them clasping, clutching ... one of them thrusting away.” Fanny’s hands were before her in a frantic dumb-play. Susan laughed. “How right you are!” “I am a fool,” cried Fanny.--Am I mad? I do not seem to mind. They seem to understand--_something_. Am I a fool? “She is wonderful,” said Tessie. “Clara told us--“ “What?” Susan got up. She held Fanny’s face gently in her hands. She kissed her brow. “--that we would love you.” Lucy came in with tea. “Clara saved my life.” “She’s a good thing,” said Tessie.... They drank their tea in silence. No hand trembled. Susan and Tessie got up. “You must not get up!” They came close to Fanny. Her eyes were almost parallel with Tessie’s red mouth which had spoken. She looked up at the straight lips of Susan. On Susan’s neck she saw a birthmark, black like a footprint. Against it, all she was white. “We’re going to come again--“ “When you’re better--“ “I _am_ better,” Fanny smiled. Tessie said: “You are a woman.” * * * * * Clara was there, and she still vibrant from it all. “You had visitors,” Fanny said. “Miss Sennister and Miss Liebovitz.” Clara studied the face of her friend.--What have they left upon her? within her? She saw the face of Fanny glow: it was aquiver and alive, her face, as not for a long time. “I gave them tea. That was right, was it not? The little girl’s a dear.” “Yes.” “When she left, she threw her arms around me and kissed me.”