After she had beaten me nearly to death, the woman would put something on the floor for me to eat, as if I were a cat, and many a time I went to bed suffering from hunger.

Oh! I could have killed myself, at last!" She made a gesture of furious despair.
"Yesterday, Christmas morning, they had been drinking, and, to amuse themselves, they threatened to put out my eyes.

Then, after a while, they began to fight with each other, and dealt such heavy blows that I thought they were dead, as they both fell on the floor of their room.
For a long time I had determined to run away.

But I was anxious to have my book.

Maman Nini had often said, in showing it to me: 'Look, this is all that you own, and if you do not keep this you will not even have a name.' And I know that since the death of Maman Theresa they had hid it in one of the bureau drawers.