The original compulsion had been added to, and turned into a compulsion toward suicide; that was what it amounted to.
Gloria didn't like doing it, and she was always glad when it wasn't necessary. But there was a dark side to everything—even, she thought, helping people.
She told herself grimly that it had to be done.
And then she returned to her work.
Mrs. Wladek pounded on the door of the gypsy's store a few minutes before four. Her face was white and her lips set in a thin line; she breathed with difficulty and with every move she made she could feel her old bones creak.
It was a shame what was being done to an old woman.
But did they care? Did any of them care?
Mrs. Wladek gave a little snort that was half laughter and half self-pity. She pounded on the door again and dropped her arm, feeling old and tired and nearly helpless.
But she had to fight on.