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Updated: June 29, 2025
She had had nothing to eat as yet, something warm would do her good. How strong the coffee was. It tasted quite bitter in spite of the sugar pooh! But it was very good, all the same. She took another big gulp. "Psia krew, you rascally woman! I suppose you're drinking some of my coffee, as I'm not getting it," shouted Mr. Tiralla from his bedroom.
"now Deer jo dont go to say in that skooner i beseech ye, jo. Ye towld me that ye liked the looks o the cappen and haited the looks o the Krew. Now deer, take warnin think ov me. think ov the words in the coppie book weev writ so often together at owld makmahons skool, eevil cmunishakens Krupt yer maners, i misrember it, but ye no wot id be sayin' to ye.
"Well, my darling, have you confessed all your sins? Psia krew, if a man had as few sins to confess as you, he wouldn't need to go to confession." "I've fourteen rosaries to say over," said Rosa, looking very important. Then she added gravely, "Seven for myself and seven for you, father." He gave a boisterous laugh. Then he kissed her.
The man cast an anxious look at the streak of light which found its way through the shutters; it seemed twice as broad as usual. What was the old man up to? Seized with an unaccountable uneasiness, Mikolai groped in the dark passage for the door-handle. "Psia krew!" Of course, it was locked on the inside. He knocked; then he called, "Father!" He rattled the handle. "The deuce, why can't you open?"
And, psia krew! how strange she was. He stared at her with open mouth. His stupid expression irritated her. Why did he stare at her like that? Oh, yes, he could still look at her, but little was wanting and he would never have been able to look at her again. And she would not have been obliged to look at him either. "Alas, alas!" She buried her face in her hands and groaned aloud.
And when the other man had stared at him in a disconcerted kind of way, he had continued in a voice that was still calmer, "You envious scoundrel, psia krew! Don't you know my Sophia? Do you think it's that what's oppressing me? Not that, oh God, not that!" And he had given a loud sigh, and burying his head once more in his hands had said no more. Then Jokisch had said good night.
But very soon Mrs. Tiralla took entire possession of his thoughts. He looked around and listened for her step, and strained his eyes so in the dark that they watered. Was he to leave the house without a single kiss? Psia krew, he would not do that. He swore in an undertone, for he had suddenly grown brutal. He would be paid, paid for every visit.
Was it evening, night, or already morning? It was no good looking at his watch in the dark. He got up, and rubbing his swollen eyes staggered out of the barn. The moon was already high above the farm; it must be near midnight. Who was that creeping off to the gate? "Stop. Who goes there?" Could that be Böhnke? "Psia krew!" All at once the young fellow recollected how miserable he had been.
Her voice was unsteady, hesitating. She felt that he suspected something, and it terrified her. "Oh, I don't know, leave me," she said suddenly, in a faint voice, and broke into a hopeless fit of sobbing, terrified and completely confused. "Psia krew!" Mr. Tiralla raised his brows, and his eyes wandered restlessly from his wife to the little box in his hand, and then from the poison to his wife.
Then she lowered hers, and jumped up so hastily that the heavy man on her lap was in danger of falling on the floor. "Psia krew!" cried the man, and then he laughed. Surely she didn't feel shy, weren't they husband and wife?
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