She took to setting an alarm clock for awhile, to rouse her early and give her half an hour to wake up in.

It never made the slightest difference to her, but always wakened me.

Finally I unscrewed the alarm key and hid it.

She was so sensitive that I couldn't scold and fuss about things.

Now with Dorene here, I simply gag her when she talks too much, shut her in the closet when she gets in my way, and scalp her when she doesn't do as she is bid." Without any reason for forming such a mental picture of her prospective room-mate, Mary had imagined her to be a blue-eyed, golden-haired little creature, with a sort of wax-doll prettiness: a girl made to be petted and considered and shielded like a delicate flower.