Perhaps it was the indifference of the clerk at the shipping office who slapped down Mike’s eighteen shillings in front of her and made her sign for it — as if he were a bloody relieving officer and the money was public assistance instead of wages from Mike. Maybe it was the dead monotony of Father Patrick’s voice granting absolution for the sin of anger against Meg, when Nellie dragged her to confession. The ghost-ridden empty house to which she returned did not help either. Moggie had left a half-devoured mouse on the rag rug. The house was so terrifyingly quiet and the mouse so bloody.“Fair turns your stomach, it does,” she muttered, as she cleaned up the unfortunate mouse and threw it into the fire.Saturday brought little relief from the loneliness to which had been added a deep boredom. Nellie came for an hour in the afternoon. But her visit only increased Daisy’s frightened intuitions about her.They ate tea together, and after she had gone Daisy lit a candle and wandered up to look at her mother’s room.
