"Here! At that rate it will take you all night!" Out of the darkness again, Aunt Alice's hand, heavy and hot and sure. She clutched May's shoulder and gave it a little shake. "Wriggler!"
The clothes slipped off. May felt her nakedness piercing the dark.
Suddenly Aunt Alice caught her and faced her about, naked as she was.
"What makes you act as though I were an ogress, May?"
Aunt Alice's hands hurt. May was no longer aware that Aunt Alice existed separate from the dark. It was shadow itself that bit into the child's flesh.
"I—I don't know." May giggled. Her eyes shone with arrested tears.
"Did I ever hurt you? Suppose I had pinched you—like this! Slapped you!"
Aunt Alice's hand flew out of the dark and fastened itself, alive and stinging, on May's cheek. It was a light slap, almost in play, but May died under it. She was stupid like a mirror. She sobbed painlessly.
"What are you crying for? Cry-baby! As if I had really hurt you!"
May did not care any more; so she went on crying.