I drew further away, that I might not get the mortal odor of this voice.
"Why are you a domestic?" I resumed.
"Because...."
"Why did you leave home?"
"Because...."
"You were not happy?"
She spoke very quickly, in a voice that rushed and rolled the words out, like pebbles.
"My father whipped me; my mother whipped me; my sisters whipped me; everybody whipped me; they made me do everything. I brought up my sisters."
"Why did they whip you?"
"I do not know; just to whip me. In all families there is some one who is whipped ... because ... well, one does not know."