"I want to go home now."
"Go into the corner first."
Sarah would leave the room and Mary would stand with her face to the wall, a trembling prey to a thousand terrors. The light would quiver and shake, steps would tread the floor and cease, there would be a breath in her ears, a wind above her head. She would try to pray, but could remember no words. Sarah would lead her forth, shaking from head to foot.
"You little silly. I was only playing."
Once, and this hurried the climax of the episode, Mary attempted rebellion.
"I want to go home, Sarah."
"Well, you can't. You've got to hear the end of the story first."
"I don't like the story. It's a horrid story. I'm going home."
"You'd better not."
"Yes, I will, and I won't come again, and I won't see you again. I hate you. I won't. I won't."