The instant I saw mother's face, I knew what I had done.
The dining-room was no place for particular company like him, and bringing him in that way didn't give her time to smooth her hair, pull shut her dress band at the neck, put on her collar, and shiny goldstone pin, her white apron, and rub her little flannel rag, with rice flour on it, on her nose to take away the shine.

I had made a mess of it.
There she came right in the door, just as she was from the tub.

Her hair was damp and crinkled around her face, her neckband had been close in stooping, so she had unfastened it, and tucked it back in a little V-shaped place to give her room and air.

Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright, her lips red as a girl's, and her neck was soft and white.
The V-shaped place showed a little spot like baby skin, right where her neck went into her chest.

Sure as father kissed her lips, he always tipped back her head, bent lower and kissed that spot too.