Peaches obeyed. Mickey soaped a cloth, knelt beside her; then he paused.
"Say Peaches, when was your hair combed last?"

"I don't know, Mickey," she answered.

"There's more dirt in it than there is on your face."

"If you got shears, just cut it off," she suggested.

"Sure!" said Mickey.

He produced shears and lifting string after string cut all of them the
same distance from her head.

"Girls' shouldn't be short, like boys'," he explained. "Now hang your head
over the edge of the tub and shut your eyes so I can wash it," he ordered.

Mickey soaped and scoured until the last tangle was gone, then rinsed and
partly dried the hair, which felt soft and fine to his fingers.

"B'lieve it's going to curl," he said.

"Always did," she answered.

Mickey emptied and rinsed the tub at the drain, then started again on her
face and ears, which he washed thoroughly. He pinned a sheet around her
neck, then she divested herself of the rags. Mickey lifted her into the
tub, draped the sheet over the edge, poured in the water, and handed her
the soap.