I do not move. After a second she rises and fetches it herself. It is a thing of white china, dark inside with what, when I saw it first, in the half-light of morning, I queasily took to be clumps of hair; but
which proved to be decoration merely—a great eye with lashes, and about it, in a plain black fount, a motto:
use me well and keep me clean and i''ll not tell of what i''ve seen!
a present from wales
The eye gives me, always, a moment or two of uneasiness; but Mrs Sucksby sets the pot down and carelessly lifts her skirt, and stoops. When I shudder, she makes a face.
''Not nice, is it, dear? Never mind. We shall have you a closet, in our grand house.''
She straightens, pushes her petticoat between her legs. Then she rubs her hands.
''Now, then,'' she says. She is looking me over, and her eyes are gleaming. ''What do you say to this? How about we dress you up today, make you look handsome? There''s your own gown in the box. But, it''s a dull old thing, ain''t it? And queer and old-fashioned? How about we try you in something nicer. I got dresses saved for you—got ''em wrapped in silver-paper—that fine, you won''t believe it. What say we bring Dainty in and get ''em fitted up? Dainty''s clever with a needle, though she seems so rough—don''t she? That''s just her way. She was what you would say, not brought up, but dragged up. But she is kind at her heart.''