“Oh, well done you!” Matilda cried. “So you were free at last!”
“I was free at last,” Miss Honey said. “I can't tell you how wonderful it was.”
“But have you really managed to live here on one pound a week for two years?” Matilda asked.
“I most certainly have,” Miss Honey said. “I pay ten pence rent, and the rest just about buys me paraffin for my stove and for my lamp,
and a little milk and tea and bread and margarine. That's all I need really.
As I told you, I have a jolly good tuck-in at the school lunch.”
Matilda stared at her. What a marvellously brave thing Miss Honey had done.
Suddenly she was a heroine in Matilda's eyes. “Isn't it awfully cold in the winter?” she asked.
“I've got my little paraffin stove,” Miss Honey said. “You'd be surprised how snug I can make it in here.”
“Do you have a bed, Miss Honey?” “Well not exactly,” Miss Honey said, smiling again.
“But they say it's very healthy to sleep on a hard surface.”
All at once Matilda was able to see the whole situation with absolute clarity. Miss Honey needed help.
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