Their boarder had come to America before his wife and children.
He sat at the table working at a beginner’s book in English.
In a moment of pity she began to teach him.
Once, when her mother was out marketing, he took hold of
       her hand and fondled it.
She snatched it away. She tried to go on with the lesson as if
       nothing had happened,
but for some time she could feel her heart pounding.
She decided to tell her mother nothing because it might worry her.
Maybe it was just a way to show his thanks. Besides, she was ashamed.
The next night he sat down to his lesson as if nothing had happened;
the lessons went on smoothly even with her mother away.

One evening she almost danced about the kitchen at her work:
       they had taken their last examination that morning,
school would soon close, and the summer vacation begin.
In the afternoon she had gone to Central Park. The girls raced
       over the meadow, noisy as birds at dawn.
After supper she and the boarder sat down to their lesson.
The color in her face and eyes had deepened. She smiled and
       held her face close to his in her eagerness to teach.
Her mother was going out to get a mouthful of fresh air after
       her day in the shop.
“Its so nice in the street, why don’t yo come?” “I’ll be soon
       through, Mamma.”
His hand was resting on the back of her chair. He pressed her
       to him. She tried to free herself
and drew her head back. He kept kissing her throat, his hands
       trying to pin down her arms.
Suddenly she was limp. He let go. She was looking at him,
       her mouth open, gasping.
She had pushed back her chair and was running out of the door.
She wondered that she was not falling she went down the stairs so fast.