e ravages of dry
paths down them; Mr. Ginsburg's footsteps clacked down the bare flight
of stairs.

"Abie! Oh, Abie!"

"Yes, mamma!"

His voice came up remotely from two flights down, like a banshee voice
drifting through a yellow sheol of dim-lit hallway.

"Abe, bring up some dill pickles from the jar--there's a dish in the
closet."

"Yes, I bring them."

Between the two women fell silence--a silence that in its brief moment
spawned the eggs of a thousand unborn thoughts.

From her corner the girl regarded the older woman with a nervous
diffidence, her small, black-satin feet curled well inward and round the
rungs of the chair.

"I--I hope you ain't mad at me, Mrs. Ginsburg--you ain't more surprised
than me."

A note as thin as sheet tin crept into Mrs. Ginsburg's voice.

"He's my boy, Ruby, and what he wants I want. I know you ain't the kind
of a girl, Ruby, that won't help my boy along--not? Extravagant ways and
high living never got a young couple nowheres. Abie should take out a
thousand more life insurance now; and, with economical ways, you got a
grand future. For myself I don't care--I ain't so young any more, and--"

"You always got a home with us, Mrs. Ginsburg. You won't know yourself,
you'll have it so good! If we move you with us out of this dark little
flat we--you won't know yourself, you'll have it so good!"

"I hope you ain't starting out with no big ideas, Ruby--this flat ain't
so dark but it could be worse. For young people with good eyes it should
do all right. If it was good enough for Abie's papa and me it--"

Mr. Ginsburg burst into the kitchen, a wine-bottle tucked under one arm
and a white china dish held at arm's-length.

"Such pickles as mamma makes, Ruby, you never tasted! You should learn
how. You two can get out here in the kitchen, with your sleeves rolled
up to your elbows, and such housekeeping times you can have! I'll get
dill down by Anchute's like last year--not, mamma?... Come; we sit down
now. We can all eat in the kitchen, mamma. Don't make company out of
Ruby--she knows we got a front room to eat in if we want it. Come and
sit down, Ruby, across from mamma, so we get used to it right away--sit
here, you little Ruby-la, you!"

Mr. Ginsburg exuded radiance like August bricks exude the heat of day.
He kissed Miss Cohn playfully under the pink lobe of each ear and
repeated the performance beneath Mrs. Ginsburg's not so pink lobes;
carved the gravy-oozing slices of