shop-bought cakes are a sign of sluttish housewifery. - Kate Atkinson

"So, what do they pay you for...exactly?"
"Slapped around. Tied up. Beaten. Given orders, made to do things."
"What kind of things?"
"You know."
"No, I can't even begin to imagine."
"Lick my boots, crawl on floor, eat like dog."
"Nothing useful, then, like hoovering?"

Ursula craved solitude but she hated loneliness, a conundrum that she couldn’t even begin to solve.

Butter was plastered on to the roll with no regard for the hard labor of the cow