After the girls passed by, Mrs. Lisbon, on her husband’s arm, took ten stricken steps to dangle her weak head over Cecilia’s face, rouged for the first and last time ever. “Look at her nails,” Mr. Burton thought he heard her say. “Couldn’t they do something about her nails?” And then Mr. Lisbon replied: “They’ll grow out. Fingernails keep growing. She can’t bite them now, dear.”
