"Always did," she answered.
Mickey emptied and rinsed the tub at the drain, then started again on her
face and ears, which he washed thoroughly. He pinned a sheet around her
neck, then she divested herself of the rags. Mickey lifted her into the
tub, draped the sheet over the edge, poured in the water, and handed her
the soap.
"Now you scour, while I get supper," he said.
Peaches did her best. Mickey locked her in and went after more milk. He
wanted to add several extras, but remembering the awful hole the dollar
had made in his finances, he said grimly: "No-sir-ee! With a family to
keep, and likely to need a doctor at any time and a Carrel back to buy,
there's no frills for Mickey. Seeing what she ain't had, she ought to be
thankful for just milk."
So he went back, lifted Peaches from the tub and laid her on the floor,
where he dried her with the sheet. Then he put the nightdress over her
head, she slipped her arms in the sleeves, and he stretched her on his
bed. She was so lost in the garment he tied a string under her arms to
hold it, and cut off the sleeves at her elbows.
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