"Come in, Flora, and I'll write something for you."
"No'm, I'se going to stand right here."
"Wait, then."
Catherine wrote a brief, emphatic statement. She had employed Flora Lopez for three years, and always found her reliable, competent, hard working. What do I really know about her, she thought, her pen poised at the end of that sentence. Character—she saw again that neat, respectable flat, eloquent of Flora's ambition, and the little boy. She is a self-respecting woman, who has supported herself and her children.
"Just Flora, that former maid of mine," she told her mother. "Wants a recommendation."
"There you are." She handed the sheet to Flora.
"But Mis' Hammond, my lawyer fr'en, he say you have to get a notary seal onto it, or it ain't good in court." She stared at the writing. "You could mebbe send it by mail to me. I moved to a new place. Folks in that house were too nosy. I'm at——"
"I'm going away to-morrow, for a month." Catherine hesitated. "I tell you, we'll go find a notary to-night. There are several along the Avenue, if it isn't too late."
Her mother agreed, rather doubtfully, to wait until she returned, unless Charles came in the meantime.
"I don't think you ought to go out with that colored woman this time of night," she insisted.