Her brother Markus was standing with sprawled legs in the sun before the store, whistling. He caught sight of her with his one eye, smiled contemptuously at her, and cried: “Happy journey!”
Philippina turned to him, and said: “You branded lout! You’re going to have a lousy time of it, mark what I tell you!”
In this frame of mind and body she came to Daniel, and said to him: “I want to work for you. You don’t need to pay nothing if you ain’t got it.”
Daniel had been noticing for some time that Eleanore could not stand the exertion required of her by the extra work.
“Will you mind the baby and sleep with it?” Daniel asked. Philippina nodded and looked down.
“If you will take care of the child and act right toward it and me, I shall be awfully grateful to you,” he said, breathing more easily.
Thereupon Philippina threw her hands to her face, and shuddered from head to foot. She was not exactly crying; there was something much worse, much more despairing, in what she was doing than in mere crying. She seemed to be convulsed by some demoniac power; a ghastly dream seemed to have seized her in a moment of higher consciousness. She turned around and trotted into the room where the child was playing with a wooden horse.
She sat down on a foot-stool, and stared at the restless little creature.
Daniel stopped, stood perfectly still, and looked at her in a mood of solicitous reflection.