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Updated: June 25, 2025
"She won't come," answered Rosa timidly. "Why not?" "Because she has locked herself into her room. Oh, father, I believe she's not well." "Well or not well," shouted Mr. I've had enough of it now She's to come down at once. Psia krew!" H'm, his son's arrival had evidently given him courage; how would he otherwise have dared behave like that? So rough, so brutal.
"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.
"Psia krew, what are you doing there?" cried Mr. Tiralla. He had awaked. She wheeled round and they gazed at each other with pale faces. She stood there like a delicate, feathery leaf that a breath of wind has caused to tremble; but he was trembling too. Neither of them was capable of saying a word. Mr.
"The gospodarz had better come to my kitchen some evening, when the light's out, and see it for himself, and then he'll say, 'Ugh! They fly at your head, and into your face, and against your nose, eyes, and ears. They crawl about everywhere ugh!" She threw her apron over her head and gave a loud shriek. "Psia krew, what a noise!
Mr. Tiralla had indeed overdone it. He felt very unwell. "So now we're all together again." Then he nodded to his son and got up. "I'll lie down a little on my bed. Send Marianna to help me. Psia krew!" He yawned, and staggered to the door. His son jumped up and wanted to help him, but he sent him back. "No, it's not necessary, go back."
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?
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?"
Anyhow, it won't kill him yet." "Anyhow, it won't kill him yet," she repeated absent-mindedly. But she could not stand it any longer, she must know where the two were. "Where can Rosa be? Psia krew!" she cried in a furious voice. Her stepson stared at her in amazement. How mad she was; it amused him to see her.
He would not let them take it from him, he would rather die. "Psia krew!" He swore so loudly that he startled his daughter. Awakened out of her trance of bliss, Rosa saw with horror that her father was holding the bottle to his lips and drinking, drinking, hiccoughing and groaning, until he could drink no more, until the gin ran out again at the corners of his mouth.
"You're dancing very badly, Mr. Schmielke," she said, and next moment flew past him in little Ziëntek's arms. "Psia krew!" Mr. That hop o' my thumb, that little milksop of a post office clerk, had better try to come near him, he would soon take him in hand. He called himself master of the ceremonies, and his duty was obviously to provide for the entertainment of the guests.
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