'I'm going to make your face look like that.' she whispered.She used to be a professional make-up artist, apparently. She put allkinds of stuff on me,...making my cheeks more pronounced, making my noselook smaller, and making my eyes go back into their sockets. Then sheput some false teeth into my mouth, totally changing my face. I couldno longer recognize myself.She put on a wig cap and placed a pepper and salt wig on my head,belonging to her mother. Last came her mothers glasses, really. Without bitterness I reflectedon my labours for Her. I had panted and sweated under the lash to haul woodfor Her fires, so that She and Her slaves should be warm, while She had mekept in an unheated pen. I had groaned under the yoke and the goad to pumpwater to keep them clean, while I lay unbathed in filthy straw. But that wasthe nature of things, I told myself without resentment. My body, my muscles,were not mine to command, but Hers; She owned me. And She paid me the rewardany careful owner. More

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