Gitl offered but feeble resistance, just enough to set herself right before her own conscience. She washed herself quietly, and when her friend set about combing her hair, she submitted to the operation without a murmur, save for uttering a painful hiss each time there came a particularly violent tug at the comb; for, indeed, Mrs. Kavarsky plied her weapon rather energetically and with a bloodthirsty air, as if inflicting punishment. And while she was thus attacking Gitl’s luxurious raven locks she kept growling, as glibly as the progress of the comb would allow, and modulating her voice to its movements: “Believe me you are a lump of hunchback, sure; you may—may depend up-upon it! Tell me, now, do you ever comb yourself? You have raised quite a plica, the black year take it! Another woman would thank God for such beau-beautiful hair, and here she keeps it hidden and makes a bu-bugbear of herself—a regele monkey!” she concluded, gnashing her teeth at the stout resistance with which her implement was at that moment grappling.
Gitl’s heart swelled with delight, but she modestly kept silent.
Suddenly Mrs. Kavarsky paused thoughtfully, as if conceiving a new idea. In another moment a pair of scissors and curling irons appeared on the scene. At the sight of this Gitl’s blood ran chill, and when the scissors gave their first click in her hair she felt as though her heart snapped. Nevertheless, she endured it all without a protest, blindly trusting that these instruments of torture would help reinstall her in Jake’s good graces.
At last, when all was ready and she found herself adorned with a pair of rich side bangs, she was taken in front of the mirror, and ordered to hail the transformation with joy. She viewed herself with an unsteady glance, as if her own face struck her as unfamiliar and forbidding. However, the change pleased her as much as it startled her.
“Do you really think he will like it?” she inquired with piteous eagerness, in a fever of conflicting emotions.
“If he does not, I shall refund your money!” her guardian snarled, in high glee.
For a moment or so Mrs. Kavarsky paused to admire the effect of her art. Then, in a sudden transport of enthusiasm, she sprang upon her ward, and with an “Oi, a health to you!” she smacked a hearty kiss on her burning cheek.
“And now come, piece of wretch!” So saying, Mrs. Kavarsky grasped Gitl by the wrist, and forcibly convoyed her into her husband’s presence.
The two boarders were out, Jake being alone with Joey. He was seated at the table, facing the door, with the boy on his knees.