Neither my body nor my hair had in all my life been washed with more than cold water. It is hard now to recall how luxurious felt clean clothes upon m... poor body. Over the following days and weeks, during which I was given menial tasks and responsibilities, my condition improved and when I saw myself in one of the fine mirrors of her household I saw a new woman. I never left her employ after that. Mistress Pickles’ house was, I was to discover, a salon for ladies who, like me and Mrs Pickles. He must've slipped away while she was dozing. Marcy wondered how far he had wandered. Was he still in the cabin? Had he gone out to the shed to check on Karen? Or had he gone off into the forest? Looking out the bedroom window, Marcy saw a bush rustling. "It might be the dog," she thought to herself. She shivered as she remembered what it had done to her in her nightmare. She turned away from the window, afraid of having her fear confirmed. With a sorrowful sigh, she climbed out of the bed. She. More

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