I was quick enough to fix meanings to new words, however, so keen was my interest in what I read.

Indeed, when I recall the zest with which I devoured those fearful pages, the thrill with which I followed the heartless mother or the abused maiden in her adventures, my heart beating in my throat when my little lamp began to flicker; and then, myself, big-eyed and shivery in the dark, stealing to bed like a guilty ghost,--when I remember all this, I have an unpleasant feeling, as of one hearing of another's debauch; and I would be glad to shake the little bony culprit that I was then.
My uncle was away so much of the time that I doubt if he knew how I spent my nights.

My aunt, poor hard-worked housewife, knew too little of books to direct my reading.

My cousins were not enough older than myself to play mentors to me.

Besides all this, I think it was tacitly agreed, at my uncle's as at home, that Mashke was best let alone in such matters.