These chapters balance the exposition of Winifred’s backstory with the establishment of her status quo at Ensor House, using the former to help explain her morbid behavior in the latter. The novel traces Winifred’s violent nature back to a childhood defined by institutional and parental cruelty. These accounts included episodes in a “baby farm” where infants were gradually killed and in the Clergy Daughters’ School, where Winifred managed to retaliate against the harshness she experienced there. By presenting her past so matter-of-factly, Winifred demonstrates that her worldview was forged in environments where human life was disposable, establishing a direct link between the systemic violence she endured and the interpersonal violence she now perpetrates. A strong example of this link is Winifred’s recollection of her violent encounter with the man from the moors serves as the origin story for her self-diagnosed immunity to fear. Her narration of the event is marked by a clinical detachment, focusing on the sensory details of the attack, such as the man’s “lolling tongue,” his “reddish-brown eyes,” and the “pus the colour of butter” (49) on his wound, rather than on any emotional response to his presence. Rather than react to the man’s intrusion as a traumatic event, Winifred fixates on the story she will tell to the Reverend, even going so far as to hope that she experiences rabies in the wake of her self-treatment. This points to the natural inclination of Winifred’s morbid thinking and explores The Normalization of Systemic Violence by presenting a world where brutality is ambient; Winifred’s distinction is that she meets violence with an unnatural calm and retaliatory force, turning a moment of potential victimhood into an opportunity to realize the “advantage” (48) that being perceived as a vulnerable and lone young woman gives her.

Just as in her childhood, Winifred continues to experience cruelty at the hands of her employers, which gives her an opportunity to develop her antagonism with them. Mrs. Pounds’s order for Winifred to sleep in the dog kennel is a stark exhibition of class-based cruelty, foregrounding the novel’s satirical critique of social hierarchy. The punishment, delivered for a minor infraction, is designed to dehumanize Winifred and reinforce her subordinate status within Ensor House. This scene directly engages with The Absurdity of Class Superiority, portraying Mrs. Pounds’s power as arbitrary and sadistic. The episode is a dark inversion of the Gothic governess tradition, where the heroine is typically subjected to psychological torment; here, the horror is physical and degrading. However, Winifred’s reaction subverts the trope. Instead of showing fear or despair, she responds to being watched by Mrs. Pounds with a defiant “toothy grin, and wave” (56). This act transforms the dynamic from one of simple oppression to a psychological battle, signaling that she is unfazed by Mrs. Pounds’s attempts to dominate her will.

The commissioning of Mrs. Pounds’s portrait introduces a satirical critique of Victorian aesthetics and materialism through the symbol of mummy brown and arsenic green. The painter’s ostentatious display of a paint tube labeled “Mummy Brown” is a moment of macabre comedy, exposing The Commodification of Human Bodies in its most literal form. The pigment, taken directly from the ground remains of Egyptian mummies, reveals the upper-class pursuit of art and status to be built upon the desecration of the dead, a grotesque reality hidden beneath a veneer of high culture. It matters little to Mrs. Pounds that her portrait is being effectively made from the remains of a dead person, so long as the pigment adds to her depiction in the portrait. This detail parallels the social satire of American Psycho, where brand names signify a morally vacant society. Here, a paint color exposes the hypocrisy of Victorian respectability, suggesting its beauty is predicated on exploitation. Fittingly, the painter at Ensor House is embarking on his own form of exploitation, profiting both from the commission and from Drusilla’s attraction to him. Feito signals this through the painter’s name, Gotthard Johnson, an obvious euphemism for an erect penis that undermines any purity of intention he brings to his work at the house. The obvious quality of the reference drives the novel’s campy tone, deploying the playful irony in Johnson’s name to amuse the reader.

These chapters introduce the housemaid, Sue Lamb, as the next object of Winifred’s predatory attention, further demonstrating how people are reduced to roles and objects in this world. Much like Gotthard Johnson, Sue’s naming plays a crucial role in reinforcing Winifred’s worldview. Where Winifred sees herself normalized to the experience of violence, Sue’s family name, Lamb, points to her purity and innocence, suggesting she is insulated from the kind of abuse and harassment that Winifred has lived with all her life. By recognizing her attraction to Sue, Winifred is faced with a choice: either preserve Sue’s innocence by keeping distance from her or accept her own role as a predator and engaging Sue with the intent to claim her for herself. Winifred’s instinctive reaction to her introduction is to “wet [her] lips” (67), implying the latter desire to consume her as a predator might.