“But why did she cry?” asked Cornelli, full of sympathy. She knew exactly what it was like when one simply had to cry.
“We don’t know,” retorted Mux.
“But why does the maid not peel the apples?” asked Cornelli again.
“There is no maid, except block-headed Trina,” Mux informed her.
“Who is block-headed Trina?” Cornelli wanted to know.
“She has to help; she is small and fat,” Mux described her. “Mama has to show her how to cook, and she has to fetch what we need and always brings the wrong thing. So Dino says: ‘We really must send block-headed Trina away.’ And then Mama says: ‘Trina has to live, too.’ And then she is not sent away after all.”
Cornelli had great sympathy for Agnes, who apparently had a secret trouble like her own; she did not have to be afraid of her, as she was of the proud sister who had received her.
“I am sure, Mux, that your other sister never cries. Are you not afraid of her?” asked Cornelli.
“Not the least little bit,” replied the little boy. “She often makes a face, though, as if she wanted to cry and a thousand, thousand times she begins to when nobody knows why. I don’t know why, either, for she doesn’t tell me.”
Immediately Cornelli’s great shyness of Nika changed into great pity. If Nika could not even talk about her sorrow, she might have the deepest sorrow of all.