Now I feel and I want things and I know it with burning vividness.
The little vicious Mary MacLane suffered, but she did not know that she suffered. Yet that did not make the suffering less.
And she reached out with a little sunburned hand to touch and take something.
But the sunburned little hand remained empty. There was nothing for it. No one had anything to put into it.
The little wild creature wanted to be loved; she wanted something to put in her hungry little heart.
But no one had anything to put into a hungry little heart.
No one said "dear."
The little vicious child was the only MacLane, and she felt somewhat alone. But there, after all, were the lizards and the little garter snakes.
The wretched, hardened little piece of untrained Nature has grown and developed into a woman, young and alone
