s I do . . . so that you might
suffer, suffer, suffer. . . ."

She ceased, breathing heavily. Her yellow waxen face glared with
wild hatred. Her wrinkles twitched and her pale bitten lips seethed.

Janina had been standing all the while eagerly absorbing her every
word and gesture. The overwhelming reality of Sowinska's grief, so
simple and strong, had called forth a responsive chord in her own
heart.

She was standing in the street, wondering where she should go, when
a voice behind her said: "Good morning, Miss Orlowska!"

She turned about quickly. Mrs. Niedzielska, Wladek's mother, was
standing before her with a smile on her aged, simple face.

Janina greeted her hastily.

"I was about to take a walk," she said.

"Perhaps you will drop into my house for a minute? . . ." begged
Niedzielska quietly. "I am so much alone that often for whole days I
don't see anyone except Anna and the janitor."

She hobbled slowly along.

"Certainly, I still have a little time before the performance,"
answered Janina.

"You're not in the theater very long, are you?"

"Only three weeks."

"I could tell that right away!"

"How?"

"I can't exactly explain. I watched you at Cabinska's party and
immediately knew that you were a newcomer. I even mentioned it to
Wladek . . ."

"Please make yourself at home. . . . I'll be with you in a minute."
Niedzielska played hostess quite grandly, once they were arrived at
her home.

Janina, left alone, observed with curiosity the old-fashioned
mahogany table covered with an embroidered net doily which stood
before a huge lounge upholstered with black horsehair; the chairs,
upholstered with the same material, had lyre-shaped backs. A yellow
polished dresser was filled with grotesque porcelain, greenish
pitchers, colored bric-a-brac, wineglasses with monograms, and
flower-painted teacups standing on high legs. A clock under a bell
glass, old, faded steel engravings of the Empire period, a lamp with
a green shade on a separate table, a few pots with miserable flowers
on the window sill and two cages with canaries constituted the
entire furnishings.

"Let us have a drink of coffee . . ." said Niedzielska, reentering.

She took from the dresser two showy cups and placed them on the
table. Then she went to the kitchen and brought in the coffee,
already poured into two chipped bowls, and a plate with a few stale
cakes.

"O goodness, I forgot that I had already set the cups on the
tabl