In Stolz’s room Karen was on her knees before the open door of the old-fashioned wardrobe. She had a hand stretched to touch the heap of money inside. Her expression was one of fascinated fright. When she heard Mrs. Havermann’s voice she jerked her hand back as if from something hot. Quickly she got to her feet, shut the walnut panel, and walked across the room. She brushed at her face, then glanced at the sweat on her fingers in surprise. She opened the door just a crack.

“Karen!”

She was safe. From upstairs Mrs. Havermann couldn’t see the door of Stolz’s room. Karen came out, stumbled a dozen feet, looked up.

“Oh. There you are. Come up here, Karen, I’ve something to show you.” Mrs. Havermann indicated some linens over her arm. As Karen mounted the stairs she moved away from the railing to meet her. “I’ve been looking into the hall closets. Here are some sheets nearly worn through. We’ll cut them up for pillowcases and dish towels. The nice thing about a sheet . . . when it wears, there’s so much left to do things with.”

Karen came up the last of the stairs. Her heart still thumped and she couldn’t keep her breathing steady. As she took the linens from Mrs. Havermann she expected some comment, some notice—surely Mrs. Havermann would see her excitement. But as Karen ventured to lift her eyes, she found Mrs. Havermann’s gaze focused just beyond her. The look in Mrs. Havermann’s eyes was as always vaguely pleasant and cheerful.

In that instant it occurred to Karen that through the years Mrs. Havermann had always regarded her like this. As if she were a shadow through which Mrs. Havermann must peer. As if she were not quite a living being. As if there lay between them a vast distance, an ocean of indifference.

Karen saw this now because in her fright she expected the attention of the other woman.

Mrs. Havermann transferred the sheets to Karen’s arm and then said unexpectedly, “Were you in the kitchen just now?”

Karen, caught off guard, could only stammer, “No, I wasn’t.”

Through the rimless glasses Mrs. Havermann’s gaze seemed mildly puzzled. “I have the strangest impression lately that you drop out of sight now and then. Just disappear. You aren’t hiding kittens in the cellar again, are you?” The tone was not exactly chiding, nor was there much curiosity in Mrs. Havermann’s attitude.

Struck with guilt, her tongue thick, Karen got out, “No, I’m not.”