Helia looked at the photograph and remembered the day. “I will send you a pretty present,” the duchess had said to her, caressing her with her gloved hand. And, in fact, to Kennington Avenue, where Helia was then living with Cemetery, they brought her a magnificent doll and pounds of bonbons; but Helia enjoyed neither them nor the doll.
“It will fatten you!” Cemetery said, as he locked up the bonbons. “There is no strength in them.” He put the doll in a cupboard, adding: “You have no time to play, either, except on Sunday. Come, to work!”
“Say, big sister,” asked Sœurette, who was finishing her bun, “what is cruelty to children? And is there cruelty to big persons? Tell me!”
“Come and kiss me. You will know later on; and now, go and play!”
“Say, big sister, Glanrhyd doesn’t come back. Must I write to her?”
“‘To whom shall I write?’”