and
tobacco, and of gin, too. You stink, you boor!" And she spat on the
ground.

"My darling," he said quite sadly, "what things you do say. I have only
drunk one small--really, only one quite small glass--of gin to-day. I
swear it by the Holy Mother."

"Don't pollute the Holy Mother by calling on her," she cried in a
cutting voice. "Rather blaspheme her, that she sends you the sooner to
hell, where you belong. I shall not shed a single tear for you, I swear
that."

"What--what have I done to you?" the man stammered, quite terrified.
"I've never done anything to you. I've bought you dresses, as many as
you liked; I've taken you to balls as often as you liked; I've let you
dance with whom you liked; I've never said 'no' when you've said 'yes';
and now you speak so horridly to me. You're ill, my dear; I'll send for
the doctor."

"Yes, ill!" she cried, sobbing bitterly. "You've made me ill--you, you,
you!" She rushed at him [Pg 10] as though she wanted to scratch his
face with her nails. "I don't like you! I detest you! I--I hate you!"
she shrieked in a piercing voice. Her eyes sparkled; she clenched her
hands and struck her breast, and then she thrust all her fingers into
her beautifully smooth hair and tore it out. Her dainty figure trembled
and swayed, and she turned so pale that he thought she was going to
faint.

The servant opened her eyes in amazement. What was the matter with her?
Oh, how stupid she was, how stupid! Why shout it at the master if he
hadn't noticed anything? Ay, now she had told him plainly enough--"I
hate you!" And he, poor man (may God console him!), what did he do? Was
it a laughing or a crying matter? Marianna ['S]roka did not know if she
should think "Oh, you arrant fool!" or if she should wish, "If only he
were _my_ husband, or, at least, my lover." For the _gospodarz_ was
good, thoroughly good; he wouldn't stint, her--her and her two little
ones. That woman was really too nasty. She didn't deserve such a good
husband.

Hitherto her mistress had always had her sympathy, but in a sudden
revulsion of feeling she now felt much more drawn towards her master.
It was a shame how that woman treated him. She must really have
bewitched him, that he put up with such things. It would be better if
he took off his big, leather slipper, with the wooden heel, and hit her
over the head with it and stunned her, rather than that he should beg
and implore in that way. Oh, yes, of course there was no doub