Rebuffed from his fine feelings, Milkman matched her cold tone. "You loved those white folks that much?""Love?" she asked. "Love?""Well, what are you taking care of their dogs for?""Do you know why she killed herself? She couldn't stand to see the place go to ruin. She couldn't live without servants and money and what it could buy. Every cent was gone and the taxes took whatever came in. She had to let the upstairs maids go, then the cook, then the dog trainer, then the yardman, then the chauffeur, then the car, then the woman who washed once a week. Then she started selling bits and pieces––land, jewels, furniture. The last few years we ate out of the garden. Finally she couldn't take it anymore. The thought of having no help, no money––well, she couldn't take that. She had to let everything go.""But she didn't let you go." Milkman had no trouble letting his words snarl."No, she didn't let me go. She killed herself.""And you still l
Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon
entitlement, servitude, suicide