Dr. Murray’s rage came back to me then and I felt mine rising to meet it. It should not be, this word, I thought. It shouldn’t exist. Its meaning should be obscure and unthinkable. It should be a relic, and yet it was as easily understood now as at any time in history. The joy of telling the story faded.

“I’m glad it isn’t in the Dictionary, Lizzie. It’s a horrible word.”

“That it may be, but it’s a true word. Dictionary or no, bondmaids will always exist.”

Lizzie went to her wardrobe to select a clean pinny. “Mrs. B has left me to get dinner on, Essymay. I have to go. You can stay, if you like.”

“I will if you don’t mind, Lizzie. I need to write to Ditte. I’d like the letter to make the morning post.”

“It’s about time.”