"Yes, mamma."
Mrs. Schulien fell to crooning slightly, redigesting with the senility of years.
"To New York! Nowadays young wives got it good. How long you stay,
Hermie?"
"It's just my Pittsburgh-New York trip, grandma."
"Sadie, come here by grandma."
She approached with the tears drying on her face, her bosom heaving in suppressed jerks.
"Yes, grandma." And patted the little clawlike hand, and the bit of white hair beneath the fluted cap, and a bit of old lace fastened with an old ivory cameo and covering the old throat.
"You got good times, not?"
"Yes, grandma."
"And you'm a good girl, Sadie. Eh? Eh?"