The Song of Songs
a new and gayer existenc
time was short, why spend it over that disgusting se
re on credit, and have a plate hung on the outside of the house inscribed: "
ion of Mrs. Czepanek's poor brain, riddled like a
had besieged their home after papa's departure were still fresh in her shuddering memory. Then she did not see quite clearly where so many students,
would listen to
the mayor, I will-" and the attic room r
could tell at the bottom of the stairs that the machine, whose industrious clatter had greete
r an admixture of scorn, was like the smile parents wear before Christmas. She painted her cheeks more carefully than eve
Mrs. Czepanek went about calculating and speculating. She put her foot to the treadle only on rare occasions, when Lilly pled with her urgently
gth threatened to give out. Yet this
l turn up,"
essed on the edge of the bed from two to six in the morning, she would n
etween her and the world, between her and the thoughts she wa
me for the new
a hot, dra
furniture smelling of fresh varnish. Even before she set foot on the lowest step she
look of amusement was on their red faces. Mrs. Czepanek was tripping to and fro, running her fingers through her freshly-curled hair and screaming all
natch the bill from the man's hand. He refused to giv
ght desperately, and called to the men to leave, telling them
rath now desce
hing would have been all right. Now I have to go there to-morrow again, while if you had
ew apar
be so stupid? Did she think her mother
late had already been made. When hung it would act like magic. So much for the outside. But hadn't she self-sacrificingly strain
sh basins with gold flowers, the pattern exactly matching the pattern of the ten stands. Unfortunately the dishes were not ready for delivery because it always took three or four weeks to have the monogram burnt in. But the
g shambling steps. Her small eyes, with the traces of many sleepless hours upon them, g
sy, ventured to inquire concerning the pa
a lady. I think that I, the wife of Kilian Czepanek, conductor of th
ings at the
anek laug
ted and papered." Then with the graceful gesture which only the ability to pay bestows upon a pe
ike being in doubt as to whether or n
annoyances nothing had
n the table. Well, then, they would simply skip a meal again.
drink. No time must be lost, she said
was seized by anot
ave had that lovely furniture in its place by to-morrow morning. As it is, we sha
espairingly brandished the bread-knife
eves of her blouse, and sa
bottom of the bed. The underwear and linen, the conten
d arms jerked, the sweat
ed the score of the Song of Songs, the home's greatest treasure, lying on the fl
ped to p
ongs?" screamed the mother. She had be
surprise. "I was just goi
hing. You want to steal it, the way you stole th
her eyes, and felt a pain at her throat, felt some
realise it was the bread-knife she was holding in her hand.
ld probably have succumbed in the struggle that ensued, ha
d-knife in a tight clutch, which the strongest man could not relax, and did not drop
se they did not know what else to do with her. While at the hospital she learned that her mother ha
eft alone i