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Updated: June 21, 2025
The long nose was distended and knobbed at the end, and there were deep lines on either side of it; her heavy, black brows almost met across her forehead, her teeth were large and square, and set far apart teeth that could tear. She filled the room; the men were obliterated, seemed tossed about like twigs in an angry water, and even Steavens felt himself being drawn into the whirlpool.
Before these callers were gone, the brother of the Widow Steavens, who lived on the Black Hawk road, drew up at our door, and after him came the father of the German family, our nearest neighbours on the south. They dismounted and joined us in the dining-room. They were all eager for any details about the suicide, and they were greatly concerned as to where Mr. Shimerda would be buried.
You’ll blister its little skin.’ I was indignant. “‘Mrs. Steavens,’ Ántonia said from the bed, ‘if you’ll look in the top tray of my trunk, you’ll see some fine soap.’ That was the first word she spoke. “After I’d dressed the baby, I took it out to show it to Ambrosch. He was muttering behind the stove and would n’t look at it. “‘You’d better put it out in the rain barrel,’ he says.
Steavens looked at him earnestly, puzzled at the line of the chin, and wondering why a man should conceal a feature of such distinction under that disfiguring shock of beard. Suddenly, as though he felt the young sculptor's keen glance, Jim Laird opened his eyes. "Was he always a good deal of an oyster?" he asked abruptly. "He was terribly shy as a boy."
The conductors get rich down there, collecting half-fares off the natives and robbing the company. He was always talking about fellows who had got ahead that way.’ “I asked her, of course, why she did n’t insist on a civil marriage at once—that would have given her some hold on him. She leaned her head on her hands, poor child, and said, ‘I just don’t know, Mrs. Steavens.
"That is the eternal wonder of it, anyway; that it can come even from such a dung heap as this," the lawyer cried, with a sweeping gesture which seemed to indicate much more than the four walls within which they stood. "I think I'll see whether I can get a little air. The room is so close I am beginning to feel rather faint," murmured Steavens, struggling with one of the windows.
Steavens understood now the real tragedy of his master's life; neither love nor wine, as many had conjectured, but a blow which had fallen earlier and cut deeper than these could have done a shame not his, and yet so unescapably his, to bide in his heart from his very boyhood.
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