“Now then,” he said. “Let’s get this clear: you do as Calpurnia tells you, you do as I tell you,
and as long as your aunt’s in this house, you will do as she tells you. Understand?”
I understood, pondered a while, and concluded that the only way I could retire with a shred of dignity
was to go to the bathroom, where I stayed long enough to make them think I had to go.
Returning, I lingered in the hall to hear a fierce discussion going on in the livingroom.
Through the door I could see Jem on the sofa with a football magazine in front of his face,
his head turning as if its pages contained a live tennis match.
…you’ve got to do something about her,Aunty was saying.You’ve let things go on too long, Atticus, too long.”
“I don’t see any harm in letting her go out there. Cal’d look after her there as well as she does here.”
Who was the “her” they were talking about? My heart sank: me.
I felt the starched walls of a pink cotton penitentiary closing in on me,
and for the second time in my life I thought of running away. Immediately.
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