“ ‘Would you mind telling me what you are called?’ said Mrs Pig. ‘The children would like to know.’ ‘It’s Mrs Wolf,’ said the babysitter, crossing a pair of dark hairy legs and getting out her knitting.”
“Sometimes, as she sat knitting, aware that William’s eyes were on her face, she felt her breath tightening in a way that was strange and not unpleasant. Then, just as suddenly, rebellion would rise in her. He was so sure! Without even asking, he was reckoning on her as deliberately as he calculated his growing pile of lumber.”
“When she had finished, she called Borka and tried it on her. Borka was delighted, and flapped around with joy, because she had always been chilly at night.”