“Something surged within him then, an unmasterable rage. The sisters seemed not to see him at all, nor to hear him speak. To be disrespected on his own ferry…He wouldn’t stand for it. This was his dominion.”

By using the grandiose word “dominion” to describe Pete’s ferry, Purvis uses diction to expose the disproportion between the antagonist’s limited real-world authority and his inflated self-image. The ellipsis reflects how his wounded pride renders him speechless. The passage’s use of free indirect discourse fuses narrator and character, giving the reader an inside view of how masculine entitlement distorts logic.

“It was only when she saw one of them—Hester, was it?—and then another—Mary, the youngest—rush forward to the vast, twitching body and try with feeble arms to roll it back into the water, that she realised they didn’t share in the excitement at all.”

The use of em-dashes breaks up the excerpt in a way that illustrates Temperance’s dawning, piecemeal recognition of how the sisters’ reaction differs from the rest of the villagers’. By juxtaposing the “vast, twitching body” of the sturgeon with the small, “feeble” arms trying to save the fish, the author sets the sisters’ empathy in contrast with the cruelty of their community, cementing their outsider status.

“Of all of them, Thomas thought, surveying them with burgeoning connoisseurship, Anne was probably the ugliest. But she was the one he kept looking at.”

The businesslike diction of “surveying” and “connoisseurship” casts the sisters as objects to be appraised, illustrating The Dehumanizing Nature of Patriarchal Control. However, Thomas’s immediate feelings for Anne even though she’s “probably the ugliest” challenge sexist, appearance-driven measures of women’s worth. The passage foreshadows the characters’ romantic relationship, which exerts a major influence on the story’s climax and resolution.

“The worst type of women were the ones who didn’t know their place in the order of things. There seemed to be a lot of them around nowadays, women who thought themselves superior, who’d forsaken nice, feminine qualities like meekness and humility. Something terrible happened to him in the presence of such women. A rage descended, a desire to punish.”

Pete’s internal monologue articulates the novel’s theme of the dehumanizing nature of patriarchal control. Purvis’s use of passive voice (“Something terrible happened to him in the presence of such women.”) shows how Pete abdicates responsibility for his actions and instead blames his hatred on the women he antagonizes. The descriptions of his “rage” and “desire to punish” create an ominous mood and foreshadow Pete’s escalating actions against the sisters.

“Despite the death, the men’s lust hadn’t been satisfied. He could see it in their eyes: They wanted more.”

The word “lust” portrays the men’s desire for violence as a primal urge. The killing of the badger, which dies solely for the men’s amusement, demonstrates the danger of mob mentality. Robin’s observation that the men “hadn’t been satisfied” and “wanted more” demonstrates his painful awareness of the toxic masculinity in his village and positions the villagers’ attacks on the sisters as part of a broader pattern of men using violence for personal satisfaction.

“She was no longer a cat. She sounded unnaturally serious; he was startled by her tone. ‘What is it then, child? Please—you’re alarming me.’ ‘It’s…not nothing,’ she said again.”

The adverb “unnaturally” subtly invokes the rumors circulating around the sisters so that even innocent gravity begins to read as uncanny. Mary’s statement that the trouble is “not nothing” is an example of litotes. This expression withholds the details of the situation from her grandfather, showing how the pressures of mob mentality and male control strain the sisters’ trust in their family’s patriarch.

“She tore through the skin of the cherries with pointed teeth. She ate as an untamed animal eats, biting, chewing, the juice bleeding around her lips and down her chin. He was beguiled by her abandon.”

The simile “as an untamed animal eats” and the description of Anne’s “pointed teeth” invoke the novel’s central canine motif. Thomas’s “beguiled” response demonstrates a positive reaction to women’s freedom; while the village sees Anne’s independence as monstrous, he’s drawn to her wild “abandon.”

“‘I swear it,’ he said again. ‘I was looking at them across the water, walking along the path. Five of them there were, five walking figures. And then, like that, they began to change. Growing close to the ground. Running on all fours. Barking.’”

The progressive participles “growing,” “running,” and “barking” accelerate Pete’s testimony into fragments so that syntax itself seems to devolve alongside the girls he describes. By repeating the word “five,” Pete presents the number as evidence that the figures he saw were the Mansfield sisters even though he lacks proof. This reflects how rumor supersedes reason in the village’s stance on the girls in keeping with the theme of the danger of mob mentality.

“He knew then that he had done the right thing in telling Agnes what had happened. The Mansfield sisters had meant to scare him. They were mocking him, testing him. In return, they would feel the full, scalding weight of his anger.”

The phrase “mocking him, testing him” emphasizes Pete’s paranoia. The adjective “scalding” provides tactile imagery and underscores the dangers of patriarchal rage. Free indirect discourse again allows the reader an inside view into how Pete’s bruised ego reasons itself into righteous retribution and links the passage to the dehumanizing nature of patriarchal control.

“Come to think of it, there had been several occasions when people had found something unusual in the girls. Sharp teeth—yes, they’d always had sharper-than-normal teeth. And dark hair. And glowing eyes, like the eyes of hungry dogs.”

The colloquial opener “Come to think of it” and the anaphora of the last two fragments creates a conversational tone, signaling that the passage summarizes the villagers’ discussions of the sisters. The simile “like the eyes of hungry dogs” weaponizes the girls’ features to support the rumors, demonstrating the dangers of confirmation bias.

“She thought about what they all went through each day: The great, grueling trial of being a woman in a world governed by men. How painful it was, and how humiliating. To be forced to hold your dead friend aloft because it was thought that you, in your smallness and stupidity, might not realise that this could be your fate.”

In this passage, Purvis uses Temperance’s internal monologue to examine the dehumanizing nature of patriarchal control. Like the literal weight of the “dead friend” that the pregnant women are forced to carry, the alliteration in “great, grueling” and “governed” presents patriarchy as a burden imposed by oppressive systems and traditions. The poetic, elevated language of the excerpt highlights the absurdity of male authorities’ stereotypical belief in women’s “smallness and stupidity.”

“For a moment, through a curious trick of the shadows, it looked as though her face was changed.”

This excerpt demonstrates how the author creates ambiguity around the girls. The words “as though” and “a curious trick” use hedging language to show that Thomas wants to reject the rumors, but his feeling that Anne may have “changed” betrays his uncertainty about whether there is some truth to the stories. This element of doubt adds to the novel’s tension.

“‘It was all exactly the same,’ she said with a smile. ‘All of it. The larder, the hall, the latrine. Nothing had changed in hundreds of years.’”

Temperance’s list, “The larder, the hall, the latrine,” suggests that domestic life, and by extension female labor, is centuries old. Her smile adds a touch of dark comedy to her observations about how women’s lives have remained largely unchanged through the rise and fall of civilizations due to the pervasiveness of patriarchy.

“‘The truth is like a water creature,’ he continued. ‘Too large for any single man to catch. He can take hold of one tentacle, or a silver tail, or a fin, but he’ll never catch the whole creature, not on his own.’”

Pete’s extended metaphor casts truth as a monstrous hydra of tentacles, tails, and fins. The metaphor seeks to exonerate him for his role in starting the rumors about the sisters: If truth cannot be caught whole, no single liar can be blamed for its distortion.

“But girls who became dogs, or who let the world believe they were dogs, were either powerful or mad: both monstrous possibilities.”

The “either/or” phrasing imposes a false binary that leaves no space for female complexity. The parallel construction equates power and “madness” as equivalent threats, exposing how patriarchy pathologizes any woman who refuses smallness. Robin’s narration reveals the dehumanizing nature of patriarchal control. According to the village’s rigid gender norms, female non-conformity is condemned as “monstrous.”

“In my opinion, the girls are suffering from a nervous disorder caused by erratic animal spirits. It’s possible that it began in one or two of them, and the others are imitating the condition.”

Dr. Friend’s hedging dialogue (“in my opinion,” “it’s possible”) shows scientific caution. However, his diagnosis upholds the dehumanizing nature of patriarchal control by pathologizing the girls’ behavior and justifying their confinement.

“He searched within his soul and saw a terrible truth: that he’d rather they were dogs than damaged girls.”

The alliterative pair “dogs” and “damaged” yokes the two options together sonically, making them feel like natural alternatives when in fact one is fantasy and one is grief. The colon operates as a confessional threshold, and the introspective verb “searched” elevates the moment to spiritual reckoning. Yet what Joseph discovers is not virtue but the seductive ease of preferring metaphor to reality—the same substitution the village makes. The line implicates even love in the dehumanizing logic it claims to resist.

“‘There,’ Pete said, triumphant. ‘Don’t you see? It was the girls. The devil changed them into dogs, and they’ve gone out and butchered all those animals.’”

Pete’s rhetorical question “Don’t you see?” pressures the audience into agreement, leveraging the power of mob mentality. His short, declarative sentences present his accusation as a settled fact, and the verb “butchered” underscores the violence of the deeds he blames on the Mansfield sisters.

“Nothing could overcome him: no power of evil, no woman or girl or wife. Not even the devil himself could do it, for Pete was good and strong and would prevail over any enemy.”

In literature, polysyndeton refers to the stylistic addition of coordinating conjunctions where none are grammatically necessary. The list “no woman or girl or wife” uses polysyndeton to equate women with the “power of evil” and “the devil himself,” exposing how deeply Pete’s worldview is warped by the dehumanizing nature of patriarchal control. The second instance of polysyndeton in the passage “good and strong and would prevail over any enemy” reveals how the antagonist’s arrogant belief in his own superiority leads him to see himself as a morally upright, unassailable hero. This distorted self-image becomes especially ironic in the light of his defeat and death during the novel’s climax.

“We went out when we weren’t supposed to, we were too free, and this—all of this—is our punishment. It has nothing to do with the idea of us becoming dogs, and everything to do with the fact of us being girls.”

In this passage, Purvis uses Anne’s dialogue to articulate the novel’s central feminist thesis. The final sentence uses the parallel phrases “nothing to do with the idea of us becoming dogs, and everything to do with the fact of us being girls” to strip away the supernatural pretext of the villagers’ fear and reveal the sexism underneath. The em-dashed interruption “—all of this—” conveys Anne’s exhaustion and moral outrage at her and her sisters’ persecution.

“‘I want to know why these girls, these…bitches, seem intent on ruining my wedding day, and’—he gestured at his hand—‘and, and why they bit me, and why they’ve set about plaguing me all summer.’ He pulled himself to his full height and looked down at Thomas. ‘I’m here to take them back to the village.’”

Pete’s choice of curse word conveys his misogyny-fueled hatred for the sisters while also connecting to the novel’s canine imagery. The possessive phrasing of his intent to “take them back” reveals how thoroughly he construes the girls as property rather than persons, underscoring the antagonist’s importance to the theme of the dehumanizing nature of patriarchal control.

“‘I love Anne Mansfield,’ he said. ‘And I knew Pete Darling wouldn’t rest until he’d ruined her. I couldn’t let that happen.’”

The passage’s simple sentence structure and the formal use of the characters’ full name add weight to Thomas’s false confession. His efforts to shield Anne and her sisters provide an alternate model of masculinity based on self-sacrifice rather than violence.

“She was a stray lamb which had been found, a lost object restored. She was home. Yes, this cup was a home to her, the best home she’d ever had, the one that wanted her the most.”

The metaphor comparing Temperance to a “stray lamb” is an allusion to the parable of the lost sheep. Purvis’s use of the biblical reference underscores the dramatic shift in Temperance’s attitude towards alcohol, which she once considered a grave vice. The repetition of the word “home” emphasizes the emotional comfort that Temperance finds while drinking and indicts the family and village that fail to offer her the sense of belonging she craves.