"You surely know where you live."
She looked up at him in one of the rare moments of opening wide her eyes.
"I tell you I dunno."
"What's in there?"
"My—my clothes."
"Let's see."
She plucked at the knot, drawing back for him to lean to see the top layer of neatly folded waist.
"Don't," she said, withdrawing it quickly from his touch.
"Why," he said, "you poor little kid! What's got you into this mess?"
At that in his voice, such a quick, a thick, a hot layer of tears sprang to her eyes that she could not relax her throat for words.