“Well, I don’t care what he said. I’m not hungry right now. I’ll eat when I come down.” I turned and walked up the back stairs and left them there.

* * *

I took off my clothes and got into the bathtub. “Rhoda.” She had followed me up the stairs. “Darling, I want you to go on and eat. Fannin has other work to do. She can’t stand around the kitchen all morning waiting for you to eat lunch.”

“Then tell her not to. I’ll fix it when I come down. I know what to do.” She was in the bathroom now. Picking up my clothes from the floor. She put the clothes in the hamper and straightened up the bathmat and sat down on a little painted chair to watch me bathe.

“Mother, stop looking at me.”

“You look wonderful, Rhoda. Your body looks very beautiful.” She reached out a hand, touched my shoulder, caressed my arm. “I can’t believe you’re getting so grown up. My little baby girl. Darling girl.”

“I met this fabulous woman at the pool, Mother. She’s from Massachusetts. She wears these darling shoes because she had polio. She’s going to give me the catalogue so I can order some. Can I have some?”

“I guess so. What kind of shoes?”

“Saddle oxfords. Like we used to have for cheerleading. Only these are so beautiful. They are the most beautiful leather.”

“Who is she?”

“Mrs. Morgan. Her husband works for Chemistrand. She goes to Saint James’s.”

“Oh, I know who she is. She’s a friend of Imogene’s. Well, that’s nice that you met her.”

“Can I have the shoes?”

“We’ll see. I have to see how much they cost. I’ve been spending so much money on the house. Don’t you think it looks nice? Don’t you like the carpet downstairs and the drapes?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re great. Well, look, get out of the way so I can get out, okay?” I stood up. She watched me as though I were the archangel Gabriel. She worshipped me despite my faults. She handed me a towel.

“I’m going down and get your lunch ready. Come down as soon as you get dressed.”

“All right. I will.”

* * *

I ate my diet lunch. Then I went back upstairs and shut the door to my room and turned on the ceiling fan and read myself to sleep. “Somewhere else, in a great study hung with tawny curtains, Justine was copying into her diary the terrible aphorisms of Herakleitos. The book lies beside me now. On one page she has written: ‘It is hard to fight with one’s heart’s desire; whatever it wishes to get, it purchases at the cost of the soul.’”