door. The white girl was at a little counter at the back. When she saw me her eyes looked more
frightened than ever and I could see her tremble. I went up to her and she whispered, "Oh, why did you
come back? I told you to go away!" I laughed, I couldn't help it, and I said: "You're the queerest
shopkeeper I ever met. Don't you want people to buy your things?" She said low and very quickly: "It's
too late! You can't go now! But don't touch anything. Don't touch anything she gives you. Don't touch
anything she points out to you." And then in the most everyday way she said quite clearly: "Is there
anything I can show you? We have everything for dolls." The transition was so abrupt that it was startling.
Then I saw that a door had opened in the back of the shop, the same door I had seen opening before,
and that a woman was standing in it looking at me.
I gaped at her I don't know how long. She was so truly extraordinary. She must be almost six feet and