raight off.

"She sent for me then. Her baby was coming and Pavelek had gone off and
she didn't know where he was and she was about distracted. I'd been
married before she ran away with Pavelek, but Homer only lived four
years and I was a widow then. I had folks left still in Maine; but no
one very near and there wasn't anybody I seemed to take to so much as I
always had to Dolores. You may say she had a sort of fascination for me.
So I sold out what I had and came. My, what a queer journey that was. I
don't know how I got to Cracow. I only spoke English and travelling
wasn't what it is nowadays. But I got there somehow and found that poor
child. She was the wretchedest creature you ever set eyes on; thin as
thin; and all haggard and wild. Pavelek neglected her and ran after
other women and drank, and when he got drunk and she used to fly out at
him--for she was as hot-tempered as she could be--he used to beat her.
Yes; that man used to beat Dolores." A note of profound and enduring
anger was in Mrs. Talcott's voice.

"He came back after I got there. I guess he thought I'd brought some
money, and he came in drunk one day and tried to hit her before me. He
didn't ever try it again after that. I just got up and struck him with
all my might and main right in the face and he fell down and hurt his
head pretty bad and Dolores began to shriek and said I'd killed her
husband; but he didn't try it again. He was sort of scared of me, I
guess. No: I ain't forgiven Pavelek Okraski yet and I reckon I never
shall. I don't seem to want to forgive him, neither in this world nor
the next--if there is a next," Mrs. Talcott commented.

"Well, the time for the baby came and on the day Mercedes was born the
Austrians bombarded Cracow; it was in '48. I took Dolores down to the
cellar and all day long we heard the shells bursting, and the people
screeching. And that was the time Mercedes came into the world. Dolores
most died, but she got through. But afterwards I couldn't get proper
care for her, or food either. She just pined off and died five months
after the baby came. Pavelek most went off his head. He was always fond
of her in his own mean way, and I guess he suffered considerable when
she died. He went off, saying he'd send some money for me and the baby,
but precious little of it did I ever see. I made some by sewing and
giving lessons in English--I reckon some of those young Poles got queer
ways of speaking from me, I was never wh