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- Джон Фоулз
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He
said
unspeakable
things
to
me
.
I
was
a
street
-
woman
,
I
asked
for
what
he
suggested
.
I
went
mad
with
rage
.
I
threw
a
bottle
of
ink
at
him
.
He
said
that
if
I
didn
’
t
do
it
he
’
d
stop
me
having
baths
or
going
out
in
the
cellar
.
I
’
ll
be
here
all
the
time
.
The
hate
between
us
.
It
came
seething
out
.
I
’
ve
caught
his
wretched
cold
.
I
can
’
t
think
straight
.
I
couldn
’
t
kill
myself
,
I
’
m
too
angry
with
him
.
He
’
s
always
abused
me
.
From
the
very
beginning
.
That
story
about
the
dog
.
He
uses
my
heart
.
Then
turns
and
tramples
on
it
.
He
hates
me
,
he
wants
to
defile
me
and
break
me
and
destroy
me
.
He
wants
me
to
hate
myself
so
much
that
I
destroy
myself
.
The
final
meanness
.
He
’
s
not
bringing
me
any
supper
.
I
’
m
to
fast
,
on
top
of
everything
else
.
Perhaps
he
’
s
going
to
leave
me
to
starve
.
He
’
s
capable
of
it
.
I
’
ve
got
over
the
shock
.
He
won
’
t
beat
me
.
I
won
’
t
give
in
.
I
won
’
t
be
broken
by
him
.
