It is a curse in this family that the women
bear only daughters， if anything at all.
\"Let her nap，\" said a voice. \"She needs her nap.\"
Cora does not need a nap， but she welcomes silence.
Is the past a story we are persuaded to believe， in the
teeth of the life we endure in the present? Even Cora
Atkins， whose life is over? Her mind is sealed， like a
tomb， but her eyes are open. The humiliations of age
have won from her one concession: the nightcap she
wears to conceal her baldness. Silken wisps of hair
loop over the pulleys of her ears， the parts of her body
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