“You send your husband to my office. I want to have a talk with him.”
“To your office? Gottuniu! He won’t go. In Schnipishock they came to him from the four ends of the world. The whole town blessed itself with his religiousness.”
“The first principle of religion is for a man to provide for his family. You must do exactly as we say—or we cannot help you.”
“Please, please!” Mrs. Ravinsky entreated, cringing and begging. “We got no help from nobody now but you. I’ll bring him to your office to-morrow.”
The investigator now proceeded with the irk-some duty of her more formal questions. “How much rent do you pay? Do you keep any boarders? Does your husband belong to any society or lodge? Have you relatives who are able to help you?”
“Oi-i-i! What more do you want from me?” shrieked the distracted woman.
Having completed her questions, Miss Naughton looked about the room. “I am sorry to speak of it, but why is your flat in such disorder?”
“I only moved in yesterday. I didn’t get yet time to fix it up.”
“But it was just as bad in the last place. If you want our help you must do your part. Soap and water are cheap. Anyone can be clean.”
The woman’s knees gave way under her, as Miss Naughton lifted the lids from the pots on the stove.