She does not do anything for me herself, and she does not like any one else to do anything either.

Still, she is very good to other people.
She comes up from the theatre sometimes at half-past nine--that is the hour when I am just sleepy--and she stamps about the room, and makes cornflour for the old Polish lady.

Then off she goes, taking with her the cornflour together with my sleep.

Once I complained, but she said I was irritable.

You can't think how teasing it is to hear the noise of the spoon stirring the cornflour just when you are feeling drowsy.