That evening at dinner Francesca announced that Mr. Schuyler offered to let her broaden her experience by exercising Lise occasionally, and she would be doing both of them the next day.
Anne felt a pang of jealousy despite her promise; she tried to suppress it. She told herself Francesca needed to practice on other girls just as jockeys need to ride many horses. Still, the buried worm of doubt raised its head that evening and especially as she lay in her cell at night. Might Francesca have put her out of the way for a week to be with Lise? She dropped into an uneasy sleep, starting awake whenever a rat ran across her body.
Anne concealed her anxieties better this time when she made Francesca's breakfast and went with her to Mr. Schuyler's for her whipping. But they emerged again when she saw Lise on the frame at their arrival. Francesca attached Anne's leash to a hook on the gymnasium wall and went to change. Anne noticed that Lise seemed to be avoiding her gaze.
She was really quite fetching spread out like that, timid and fearful. If Anne were not chained up she would have gone over to Lise and taken advantage of the situation. Perhaps she appealed to Francesca the same way; using the whip on her would be a pleasure. Presently Francesca emerged in her exercise outfit with her case of implements, laid them out, and began.
Lise was a poor subject: instead of accepting the strokes she tensed, getting no benefit from them and making Francesca's task harder.
Francesca saw this too and devoted the whole day to training Lise, though without success. Anne saw only that she spent all her time with another. As a result she was listless and depressed back in the cellar afterwards.
Francesca was too familiar with her girl not to observe her sullen temper. She asked if Anne had relapsed into a forbidden interest in her owner's affairs. Anne burst into tears.
Francesca's voice became cold; she reminded Anne she had warned her there would be punishment if she misbehaved again. Anne would remain in the basement for a week, chained to the wall; her feed and water bowls would be refilled once a day but no words would pass between them. Francesca drew the shades over the windows, leaving Anne isolated in the semidarkness. She marched up the stairs without a backward glance at the unhappy figure behind her, crouched on the floor with her forehead on the ground sobbing and shaking.
For three days, Francesca maintained an iron resolve; she appeared each morning, provided pellets and water, and left without a word to Anne who knelt with head bowed, not daring to look up.
On the second night, Anne lay awake on her thin mattress long after midnight and doubted Francesca would keep her. Girls in her position did not grow old. There were rumors at St. Agnes of ones who lasted years with a master; but no one ever knew of any, they only heard of it from someone. Francesca had rejected Sir Nigel's offer and in any case all the girls brought to Barbary succumbed to his savage desires within a month. Even Mr. Schuyler had his herd "seen to" after a season when their novelty faded. Her selfish attitudes had cost her place here, she was sure.
Perhaps Francesca would grant Anne a merciful end with the garrote. Then she remembered Iphigenia; that was how they did such things on the farm.
