When she returned at evening from work—she was a dressmaker—her mother met her with this greeting:
“He’s sitting around idle again.”
And she nodded her head in the direction of Drabkin’s room.
“Well, what of it?” asked the daughter, removing her cloak.
The old woman was taken aback by the girl’s retort and was at a loss whether or not to reply. She was surprised that the news did not affect her daughter.
At this moment Drabkin came out of his room.
“I’m home again!” he announced, merrily.
“What’s happened to you to-day?” asked Chashke.
“What’s happened? What should happen? It happened! They’re a pack of bloodsuckers, exploiters, and that’s all!” he exclaimed, hotly.
“‘Sploiters, poiters,’” interrupted the old woman, mockingly.