She will be sly, and watchful, and all the things her mother taught her not to be. “Don’t stare, child, your eyes will fall out of your head … A lady doesn’t listen at keyholes … A lady doesn’t ask so many questions.” But Marya has always watched, and listened. She takes out her journal. As a young girl she had filled her pages with observations of the people around her; her family’s unguarded words, the sparks of her grandmother’s wit, the looks passed between adults. She had begun to understand that what people said and what they meant were not always the same thing.
