Chapter Twenty-TwoSally lay quite still. The linoleum was rather cold. The air in the little bathroom was heavy with steam. The sound of running water and the sound of Etta’s voice went on continuously.
Etta had not moved. She sat on the edge of the bath, twisting her hands and talking in a low monotone that was not at all like her usual voice.
“Sally, I can’t help it. You know that I can’t help it, don’t you? I don’t know what to do, I don’t indeed. If I could help it, I would. Lazare says—and I must believe him—you do see that, don’t you? If I didn’t believe what he says, everything would go. You must see that, Sally. You couldn’t expect me to let everything go like that. Sally, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing it all for the Cause, for the Cause and for Lazare, and what is one in
