\" Cathy poured her a glass. Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat. I will not be sent away. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Why did I not realise it at once? It just shows how one should not judge by appearances. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea. ” “No,” she moaned, “not that. ” Just then the man’s eyes opened. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives.
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