Her old servant, Hannah, had gone, and her new servant, Maggie, had had a
baby.

After the first shock and three months' loss of Maggie, it occurred to
Harriett that the beautiful thing would be to take Maggie back and let her
have the baby with her, since she couldn't leave it.

The baby lay in his cradle in the kitchen, black-eyed and rosy, doubling
up his fat, naked knees, smiling his crooked smile, and saying things to
himself. Harriett had to see him every time she came into the kitchen.
Sometimes she heard him cry, an intolerable cry, tearing the nerves and
heart. And sometimes she saw Maggie unbutton her black gown in a hurry and
put out her white, rose-pointed breast to still his cry.

Harriett couldn't bear it. She could not bear it.

She decided that Maggie must go. Maggie was not doing her work properly.
Harriett found flue under the bed.

"I'm sure," Maggie said, "I'm doing no worse than I did, ma'am, and you
usedn't to complain."

"No worse isn't good enough, Maggie. I think you might have tried to
please me. It isn't every one who would have taken you in the
circumstances."

"If you think that, ma'am, it's very cruel and unkind of you to send me
away."