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You can do all the dumka stuff in private, the way Anna Czarnik does, but it's up to you to make them laugh twice a day for twenty minutes." "It's all very well for you to talk that cheer-o stuff. It hasn't come home to you, I can see that." Martha Foote smiled. "If you don't mind my saying it, Miss McCoy, you're too worn out from lack of sleep to see anything clearly.
Anna Czarnik's dull face lighted up ever so little. "She says the thing she was singing is a Polish folk-song about death and sorrow, and it's called a what was that, Anna?" "Dumka." "It's called a dumka. It's a song of mourning, you see? Of grief. And of bitterness against the invaders who have laid her country bare." "Well, what's the idea!" demanded Geisha McCoy.
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