Chapter Four
Breakfast Beginnings
Descending the stairs proved to be a trial, for my hobbling chain was barely long enough to take each downward step, but Frau Baxter held not only my neck chain but also my upper arm in an iron grip, through the cape, assisting me. Each step I took was a harsh reminder that I was her leashed, hobbled and chained prisoner and tears of humiliated embarrassment trailed continuously down my cheeks. The musical rattle of my hobble chain, the whooshing, slithery sound of the rubber cape and tapping of my heels on the wooden floor seemed awfully loud while we walked along the hall to the dining room, then we came to its door. Frau Baxter moved around me then into the room, assuming I suppose, that I would obediently accompany her, but suddenly, my plight and a
