Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," she said.
Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It was divided into many tight braids, each of which was
wrapped with a bit of shoe-string. From under the last one she took a small envelope and handed it to Ruth.
"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't trust it no place 'cept in my head."
Ruth unfolded the note and read:
"DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore dollars to git a devorce.
"George."
Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and anxiety deepening on her face.
"I ain't got but three dollars," she said.
"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat."