She was not laughing or jeering, or talking.
She did not sneer at me or turn away.
She looked at me, though; and for a moment I saw myself reflected in her eyes.
I will not scream,
I will not give that satisfaction.
They will have my body;
but my soul and my story are my own,
and will die with me.

The goose-grease begins to melt and glisten upon my skin.
I shall make no sound at all.
I shall think no more on this.

I shall think instead of the snowflake on her cheek.
I shall think of her hair as black as coal, her lips redder than blood,
her skin, snow-white