Chapter Nine
groo t, and comfortable o sleeping h someone; and wonder who.
Do you ers, Sue? I ask er she river.
No, miss.
Brothers?
Not as I know of, she says.
And so you gree alone?
ell, miss, not .
Cousins. You mean, your aunts children?
My aunt? She looks blank.
Your aunt, Mr Riverss nurse.
Oo be sure . . .
Surns ao imagine it; and cannot. I try to imagine ongued, s, ongue—for sometimes, o my hair, or frowning over
slit—ongue . I ch her sigh.
Never mind, I say—like any kindly mistress . e so London. to London, I take t does not.
S at t at me.
thames? she says.*
this river, here.
trifling bit of er, tainly. be? t—and this is narrow. Do you see?
I say, after a moment, t I rivers grohey flow. She shakes her head.
trifling bit of er? ser o it ts stern is marked in six-incters, ROt sing, not to t to t from ttering engine. See t? sedly. ts s all t;
S er browns, e falls; and shief again.
You must understand, I ermined to despise o do do?— is only t so long togeto be intimate. And ion of intimacy is not like Agness—not like Barbaras—not like any ladys maids. Soo frank, too loose, too free. S spots and grazes. S picking over some old dry cut upon a pin, miss? sen
minutes probing t. to me.
But s, taking care to keep t from my soft fingers. Dont yourself, se forget t s ss it, too.
One day sakes my arm as is noto I feel t