‘In this case, I will not kill him at all, even that he should have remained to wait for my letter. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. Mother had forced Lucy to memorize the ingredients of the stews, fairly beating them into her, spanking her backside when she rebelled. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe.
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