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I sed my sobs, terrified lest my mother find inity into the slop jar, poured more water from the pitcher into the basin, and washed my hands and face I was dressed half an hour before ti down at the pattern in the fabric of thecushion, waiting for the breakfast gong, waiting for thought to return, waiting for the pain to beco down the stairs and sitting at the table withroom as usual, and took up o out but I did not look up The door closed behind them, and my mother came into the room where I sat I looked at her Her face hite and her lips a tight line

"What is this?" she said, and held htdress out to me

I had used htdress," I answered her quietly

She shook it out There were dark ses on the back of it, where I had sat next to the roots of the oak tree "Where did you go, in your nightdress, to acquire such soil?" my mother said in a low voice

I put down the embroidery on the sofa beside me "I went out to sit on the steps, Mama I could not sleep"

Her hand struck so quickly I was completely unprepared; my head snapped back and my ear went suddenly deaf I raisedat her I knew that to answer her noould only bring more of the same

"You little slut," she hissed at ht last month? Or is it another of the field hands? Hercules? Tell me! Which one!" She was beside herself with fury

I had never understood the accusations she threw at ry with me; I was too ashamed to tell s?

Why would any girl allow herself to be used by a slave? I could not i quickly and clearly now I knew that my mother would never openlyme in private I realized also that it would be better for her to believe that I had a Negro lover than to know the truth, at least for the present; so I kept quiet and waited for her rage to expend itself