Then Hazel come home. Her high heels clopped up the steps and she leaned back lazily on the banisters. In the half-dark her fat, soft hands were very white as she felt the back of her braided hair. ‘I sure do wish Etta was able to work,’ she said. ‘I found out about this job today.’
‘What kind of a job?’ asked their Dad. ‘Anything I could do, or just for girls?’
‘Just for a girl. A clerk down at Woolworth’s is going to get married next week.’