"To pack, eh? You touch nothing that's in that room, hear me? I paid for every damn rag you own. What you earn wouldn't 'a' kept you in bread and butter if I hadn't treated you a damn sight better than you deserved. You'll touch none of those clothes. You'll clear out of here as you are, and if you haven't any money you can probably get some before morning."
Dot stifled a sob. She turned to her father and searched his eyes appealingly.
"You heard your brother," said Mr. Haley. "If you have sinned, Dorothy, you must take your punishment."
"Sure she must take her punishment," Edna said. "And she'll get it, too. I'm surprised at her. Such a nice girl, too. Now that she's cut herself away from her brother she'll probably end up in the streets. Wasn't that what you were thinking, Jim?"
"Yes," answered Jim, "just about. And I'll not be sorry for her if she does."
"One wouldn't expect you to be, Jim," Edna went on. "But don't let her have it on you that you were cheap. Let her have her clothes."
"I paid for them," Jim objected.
"Yes, but don't be cheap. Let her find out that there'll never be another man who'll treat her as white as her brother did. Let her have her clothes."
Jim turned his attention to the curtains. "Get your dothes and hurry up about it," he spat at Dot. "Be out of here in twenty minutes and don't ever let me lay eyes on you again."
Dot packed. The two shabby, paper-thin valises that she used on her vacations were routed out from under the bed and dusted. Dresses, step-ins, stockings, hats, costume slips, sweaters. Everything was crushed into the bags. Dot wondered where she was going. She had just a dollar. To think that her life with her father and Jim
