The next day was the same.
That night, she went back to the attic, but the mirror was still the same.
The next day was the same.
That night, she went back to the attic, but the mirror was still the same.
By the time she had escaped to the attic the next night, Alice truly felt wretched. She was sick and tired, exhausted from her housework and broken by Queenie's nagging. She was fed up with Tom, who hardly seemed to remember she was alive; she felt like a maid, cooking and cleaning for the man of the house, hardly worth his notice. Day after day, it was always the same, eathing away at her a little at a time.
Now, it all fell in upon her. She wished she had never been married, that she had never met Tom. She wished that Queenie would die, and that she could escape from this horri
