Everything was fine until that young Mrs. Johnson moved in. Then Jones changed so that he stayed mean and sullen all the time. Kicking at Buddy, snarling at her, slapping her. Only last night when she leaned over to take some beans out of the oven, he kicked her just like she was the dog. She had managed to hold on to the pan of beans, not saying anything, swallowing the hurt cry that rose in her throat, because she knew what was the matter with him. He had been comparing the way she looked from behind with the way young Mrs. Johnson would look if she should stoop over.
So the false teeth would just have to wait awhile longer, because she was going to spend her teeth money in order to stay in this apartment. She closed the door behind her gently. “Bless that table,” she said aloud, and went outside to stand under Mrs. Hedges’ window.
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