"oh! it’s all the same to me now now! but at that time i would soak my pillow at night with tears of mortification, and tear at my blanket in my rage and fury. oh, how i longed at that time to be turned out me, eighteen years old, poor, half-clothed, turned out into the street, quite alone, without lodging, without work, without a crust of bread, without relations, without a single acquaintance, in some large town hungry, beaten (if you like), but in good health and then i would show them