Dr. Ahrens was right in wanting to cauterize my nose. Everyone, even the little girls, smells terrible, and it’s the dead of winter and freezing cold in here. I can’t imagine what it must be like in August. They all have fleas. Lady Imeyne stops even in midprayer to scratch, and when Agnes pulled down her hose to show me her knee, there were red bites all up and down her leg.
