The sight of the tray outside Lauretta’s door made her pause irritably. It was absurd, she thought. Lauretta was not a famous actress upon the stage, to be encouraged to loll in bed until noon. She knocked sharply on the door. There was no answering voice. For the first time, she became alarmed, wondering if her sister was sick, and felt remorse for those few hard thoughts of a moment ago. The door opened easily enough. She entered and closed it behind her, looking about. The curtains had not been opened, and the light in the room was dim. As she went closer to it, she saw that the bed had been lain upon but not slept in. Truly alarmed now, she drew the curtains, letting bright light in, and then she saw the letter propped against the cold and empty brass candlestick on the mantelpiece. With a strong sense of having done it all before, as indeed she had, she reached for the letter. Lauretta had written one word across it in her bold hand: SARAH

She ripped the folded sheet from the envelope and read rapidly, only certain passages really hitting her mind clearly: … know you will be surprised, but Bonard has long nurtured a strong regard for me… exactly where we have not yet decided but Bonard says first to New Orleans to have a taste of adventure and fancy living which have been denied us both for so long… Sarah’s eyes raced on to the end… but if you think me totally heartless at leaving my only child, then I tell you, and nothing else could bring me to reveal this, the child is Leon’s, and so yours in a way. Take her as your daughter, for she cannot be mine, and perhaps she will make up to you the absence of children of your own… Ever with love, Lauretta.

Sarah could not stand it. At first, finishing the letter, she told herself she must keep in control. She must remain calm, for there would be trouble enough, soon enough, anyhow. Rooster would be over to see if they knew. Even as she told herself to be quiet, her ears were shocked and savaged by a sound of screaming she only gradually realized was her own. It brought Leon on the run. He had just been told of Floyd’s leaving and felt on hearing this strange cry from his wife upstairs that the world must truly have gone mad this morning. He found Sarah in a faint on the floor; by the time he had lifted her onto Lauretta’s bed, others were there.