By now we were really shouting at each other; myself, like Robespierre, representing the power of the people — although it was in those years that they were doing their best to drive me to the point where I could no longer work, and send me to the ghetto I’d been assigned to with my husband (who had himself been so harassed and humiliated he couldn’t work at all) in hopes I might decide just to go away, either by changing what I did or the way I lived, or by leaving the country;
