Deborah was talking to her Uncle Felix. She ignored them. They seemed unaware of her. Maybe she had become invisible. As soon as the thought occurred, she believed she had. Climbing the stairs, she heard Uncle Felix say, “Talk to him, Deb. Make him see. If his is the biggest investment, it will all come back to him and more, much more. It’ll put Highboro on the map. We’ll get all the ginning of the county. He’ll get his own done and make a profit on the others. There’ll be no more wagon trains of raw cotton to Savannah.”

Halfway up the stairs Selma began to cry and ran the rest of the way to her room. Felix and Deborah looked at each other. Deborah said, “I’ll talk to him. You know I will. It’s so hard to get him to answer. What you say is mere logic. Why won’t he see it?”

There was silence. Then Felix said, “Is the child all right?”

Deborah looked surprised. She had seen her daughter but not thought about her at all. Now she left her brother-in-law and went up the stairs. She opened the closed door of Selma’s room and went in. Not seeing the child, she stopped stock still and looked about. Tilting her head, she heard breathing, looked down and saw the red of one canvas shoe projected from underneath the high, canopied bed. Going over, she pulled the child out roughly. Selma would not look at her, lay stiff on the floor, and when Deborah tried to pick her up, turned to jelly.

“What have you been doing you shouldn’t?” Deborah demanded. “What ails you?”

Gathering herself to herself, Selma stood, weak but in control of her body for the moment, anyway. “I’m dying. Give my dolls to Lovey. Goodbye.”

Deborah looked down and saw evidence of what had happened. “Oh, dear Lord,” she said, “am I to be spared nothing this day? Stay. Wait. Don’t you go anywhere. No one is to see you; you hear me?”

Selma wasn’t about to go anywhere. All she wanted was to be let alone to finish dying. She stood waiting for the Lord to claim her. She only hoped He would not sing, as they did in church.

Deborah marched past Felix without acknowledging that she even saw him. A few minutes later Lovey ran panting and angry up the stairs. Deborah returned and sat on a chair beside Felix. She did not let her eyes go toward the stairs. “And how is Nell?” she asked.

“Not strong,” Felix responded. “There are times I fear for her.”

Deborah received this observation gravely.