The thought struck the woman like the warning whir of a rattler that if she looked at the girl in this moment she would be compelled to lift her in her hands and drop her like a scorpion on the hot stove. She thought, “I can’t do such as that.” She kept her back turned until the impulse passed and she could control her trembling. Her body was of metal and wood. It moved of itself, in jerks. A stiff wooden head creaked above a frame so heavy it seemed immovable. Her stomach weighed her down. Her ample breasts hurt her ribs, as though they were of lead. She thought, “I got to settle this now.”

She said aloud slowly, “I’ll not wait on her nor no other woman.”

The girl twisted one foot over the other.

She said, “I ain’t hungry.”

Trax stood up. His mouth was thin. He said to Matt, “You’ll wait on her, old lady, or you’ll git along without my comp’ny.”

She thought, “I got to settle it. I got to say it.”

But she could not speak.

The girl repeated eagerly, “I ain’t a bit hungry.”

Trax picked up a plate from the table. He held it out to his wife.

She thought, “Anyway, cornbread and bacon’s got nothing to do with it.”

She dished out meat and bread. Trax held out a cup. She filled it with coffee. The man sat down complacently. The girl sat beside him and pecked at the food. Her eyes were lowered. Between mouthfuls, she twisted her fingers in her lap or leaned over to inspect her unshod feet.

Matt thought, “Reminding me.”

The paint had been rubbed from the round face. The hair was yellow, like allamanda blooms. The artificial curls that had protruded from the pert hat had flattened out during the damp night, and hung in loose waves on the slim neck. She wore the blue silk dress in which she had arrived.

Trax said, “You eat up good, Elly. May be night ’fore we git back to eat agin.” He turned to Matt. “Lantry boys been doin’ all right?”

“They been doin’ all right. Them’s good boys. I heerd ’em come in a hour back. But they needs watchin’ right on. They’ll let the mash go too long, spite of everything, if I ain’t right on top of ’em.”

She hardened herself.

“You jest as good to stay home an’ do the work yourself. I ain’t goin’ near the outfit.”

“They kin make out by theirselves,” he said easily.

He rose from the table, picking his teeth.

“Come on, Elly.”

The girl turned her large eyes to the older woman, as though she were the logical recipient of her confession.

“I forgot to wash my hands an’ face,” she said.

Trax spoke curtly.

“Well, do it now, an’ be quick.”