ll those artists who were passing through the mob in all
directions, loudly proclaiming something, singing with inspired
voices, pointing to the expanse of heaven, calling attention to the
stars, trying to bring about some order in this disorderly, teeming
multitude, opening paths among it, imploring it in deep tones. But
the multitude either laughed or merely nodded its assent, but did
not budge from its place. It surged and pushed about and trampled
the artists underfoot.

"What is that? Why?" Janina asked herself, greatly terrified. "If
they do not need us then we ought to let them alone, keeping
ourselves apart from them and living only for ourselves and with
ourselves." But again everything became confused in her mind and she
could not conceive how it would be possible to live apart from the
rest of humanity and concluded that it would not be worth living at
all in that way. Her thoughts whirled in confusion through her
brain.

Sowinska, who now took care of her with motherly solicitude, came in
and interrupted her frenzied thoughts.

"Why don't you go home?" she advised Janina sincerely.

"Never!" answered Janina.

"Why should you wear yourself out in that way? You will rest a
little, gain new strength, and return again to the theater."

"No," answered Janina quietly.

"I forgot to tell you that old Mrs. Niedzielska was here to see me
yesterday."

"Do you know her?" asked the younger woman.

"Not at all, but she had some business with me. Oh, she is a sly
fox, that old hag!" added Sowinska.

"Perhaps she is a bit too miserly, but otherwise she is a rather
honest woman."

"Honest? You'll find out yet for yourself how honest she is."

"Why?" asked Janina, but without curiosity, for it didn't at all
interest her now.

"I will only say this much . . . that she does not love you in the
least, not in the least!"

"That's strange, for I never did her any wrong," answered Janina.

Sowinska's demeanor suddenly changed, for she glanced angrily at
Janina and wanted to say something sharp, but seeing that Janina's
face wore an expression of complete indifference, she refrained and
left the room.

Janina thought about Bukowiec.

"I have no home," she thought, even without bitterness. "The whole
wide world is my home," she added, but suddenly remembered what
Grzesikiewicz had told her about her father and stirred as though
some hidden pain had awakened in her. An uneasiness, not such as
besets one on th