"Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me," growled Austin. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. "I know the house well; by the same token that it's a flash crib.
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