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back inside that place, but something made him turn back for a second to see the light in the window.
    At home Robby heated water on the big black stove. “What are you doing?” Da demanded from the table as he ate bread and butter.
    â€œI want to wash myself before I go to bed,” Robby said, and he shuddered. Did the smell of death cling to him or was it his imagination? Either way, there would be no rest for him until he was clean. Tomorrow he would start a new life, and he would wear clean clothing, not even bothering to take the things he now wore with him.

CHAPTER THREE
    T he next morning Robby began at once to plan his escape. In the closet beneath the front stairs was an old valise that had belonged to Ma’s uncle, who once lived in the house. He would take his other change of clean clothes, brought in from the clothesline just yesterday, fold them, and when he could go into the closet unobserved, he would deposit them in the bag.
    His plan was changed by a loud knock on the front door just as they finished breakfast. Ma hurried to answer. “Have you rooms to let?” Robby heard a man’s voice ask. “I am in need of two, one for me and one for my daughter, Martha.”
    Robby pushed open the swinging door to stand in the doorway between the kitchen and the parlor. “We do indeed have rooms,” Hannah Hare said. “Won’t you come in?” Ma followed a small pale-skinned man into the parlor. He removed a tall black hat from a head covered with black hair. His eyes were black too, and seemed odd against his pale skin. His large, twisted nose and narrow lips made his face decidedly unpleasant. He held his hat in the same hand as a walking stick made from a rich dark wood with a handle of gold, and he moved with the manner of a man accustomed to receiving respect. Robby thought he looked out of place in the Hare parlor, with the red settee worn shiny by use, the lumpy, overstuffed brown chair, and scarred wooden table.
    Da got up from his breakfast and leaned around Robby. After he had a glimpse of the man, Da walked into the parlor. Ordinarily Da would pay no attention to the lodgers, only their money. He must think this man might be important. He held out his hand, but he dropped it when the man did not take it. “Welcome to me home,” he said. “I’m the landlord here. Roger Hare’s the name.”
    â€œPleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Burke, William Burke. Could you show me the rooms, my good fellow? I am in something of a hurry, having left my young daughter at the train station while I search about for lodging.”
    â€œYes sirree, Bob!” Da flashed a smile. “Right this way.” He led the guest back into the hall and up the stairs. Robby could hear their feet on the stairs, and the sound of his father’s booming voice. He stayed holding the swinging door until his mother went back into the kitchen, then followed.
    Ma began to clear the dishes from the long, wooden table with its red checked oilcloth. “Your da’s all excited because this Burke looks like a gentleman,” she said, and frowned. “Me, I’d sooner have a common-looking lodger, one who ain’t used to having fancy food.”
    Robby reached to gather the cups. “Ma,” he said, “you’ve no call to fret. Why, you’re the best cook in all of Philadelphia. Everyone says so. Let’s just pray this man takes the rooms. With two rooms rented, surely Da won’t make me go back to the graveyard.”
    The dishes had just been stacked for washing when they heard the men come back down the stairs. Da pushed open the swinging door and stuck in his head. “Come in here,” he demanded. “We’ve got ourselves two fine boarders,” Da said when Robby and his mother were in the room. “Yes sirree, Bob. It’s mighty proud we are to have you,” he said, and he reached out to clap a hand on