“Yes.”

“Suppose he wouldn’t like you then?”

“I’d rather take a chance on that,” she said. “I’d rather be myself.”

Lee said, “I never saw anybody get mixed up in other people’s business the way I do. And I’m a man who doesn’t have a final answer about anything. Are you going to pound that meat or shall I do it?”

She went back to work. “Do you think it’s funny to be so serious when I’m not even out of high school?” she asked.

“I don’t see how it could be any other way,” said Lee. “Laughter comes later, like wisdom teeth, and laughter at yourself comes last of all in a mad race with death, and sometimes it isn’t in time.”

Her tapping speeded up and its beat became erratic and nervous. Lee moved five dried lima beans in patterns on the table—a line, an angle, a circle.

The beating stopped. “Is Mrs. Trask alive?”

Lee’s forefinger hung over a bean for a moment and then slowly fell and pushed it to make the O into a Q. He knew she was looking at him. He could even see in his mind how her expression would be one of panic at her question. His thought raced like a rat new caught in a wire trap. He sighed and gave it up. He turned slowly and looked at her, and his picture had been accurate.

Lee said tonelessly, “We’ve talked a lot and I don’t remember that we have ever discussed me—ever.” He smiled shyly. “Abra, let me tell you about myself. I’m a servant. I’m old. I’m Chinese. These three you know. I’m tired and I’m cowardly.”

“You’re not—” she began.

“Be silent,” he said. “I am so cowardly. I will not put my finger in any human pie.”

“What do you mean?”

“Abra, is your father mad at anything except turnips?”

Her face went stubborn. “I asked you a question.”

“I did not hear a question,” he said softly and his voice became confident. “You did not ask a question, Abra.”

“I guess you think I’m too young—” Abra began.

Lee broke in, “Once I worked for a woman of thirty-five who had successfully resisted experience, learning, and beauty. If she had been six she would have been the despair of her parents. And at thirty-five she was permitted to control money and the lives of people around her. No, Abra, age has nothing to do with it. If I had anything at all to say—I would say it to you.”

The girl smiled at him. “I’m clever,” she said. “Shall I be clever?”

“God help me—no,” Lee protested.

“Then you don’t want me to try to figure it out?”

“I don’t care what you do as long as I don’t have anything to do with it. I guess no matter how weak and negative a good man is, he has as many sins on him as he can bear. I have enough sins to trouble me. Maybe they aren’t very fine sins compared to some, but, the way I feel, they’re all I can take care of. Please forgive me.”