I can remember the rows she had
with Mr Crich, my word. When he'd got worked up, properly worked up
till he could stand no more, he'd lock the study door and whip them.
But she paced up and down all the while like a tiger outside, like a
tiger, with very murder in her face. She had a face that could LOOK
death. And when the door was opened, she'd go in with her hands
lifted--"What have you been doing to MY children, you coward." She was
like one out of her mind. I believe he was frightened of her; he had to
be driven mad before he'd lift a finger. Didn't the servants have a
life of it! And didn't we used to be thankful when one of them caught
it. They were the torment of your life.'
'Really!' said Gudrun.
'In every possible way. If you wouldn't let them smash their pots on
the table, if you wouldn't let them drag the kitten about with a string
round its neck, if you wouldn't give them whatever they asked for,
every mortal thing--then there was a shine on, and their mother coming
in asking--"What's the matter with him? What have you done to him? What
is it, Darling?" And then she'd turn on you as if she'd trample you
under her feet.
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