It was at the age of five, when it became clear that she would not be followed by a brother, that he became more distant towards her and stopped adoring her. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy.
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