I'm so tired of being Mary 'way off up here where nobody cares or wants me.
Even Father doesn't want me, not really want me.

I know he doesn't.

I don't see why he keeps me, only I suppose he'd be ashamed not to take me his six months as long as the court gave me to him for that time.
* * * * * _Another two weeks later_.
I'm so angry I can hardly write, and at the same time I'm so angry I've just got to write.

I can't talk.

There isn't anybody to talk to; and I've got to tell somebody.