CHAPTER XVIII
One afternoon in June, distressed by the oppressive humidity and suffocating heat that precedes a storm, Monsalvat went out on the balcony of his room, and from there he saw Nacha coming home. Her slow dragging step startled him, seeming to announce a catastrophe.
He met her in the court and asked what had happened. Nacha, speechless, held out her hand to him. She seemed crushed, defeated by life. Monsalvat felt certain that something serious must have happened, or Nacha, reserved as she always was, would never have clung in such fashion to his hand in the presence of others. Heads were poked out of the windows and the women and some of the men talking or working in the patio looked at one another and began to laugh. However, Monsalvat and Nacha were too much preoccupied by their anxiety to separate. Monsalvat took Nacha to her room, supporting her by an arm; and there she told him what had happened.
She had for some days recently felt tired and ill, the result of standing so many hours at a stretch, and so frequently climbing three or four pairs of stairs, as the employees were not allowed to use the elevators. That afternoon she had been ordered to carry a mannequin down several flights. She demurred, saying that her strength would give out; but the manager turned a deaf ear. Laden with the heavy wooden figure, she reached the bottom of the first flight, staggering and faint with the strain. She set it down resolved to go no further with it; but a message reached her to the effect that if she did not comply with her orders, she would be dismissed. So she attempted to go down another flight, some of the employees laughing at the ridiculous figure she presented, others silently pitying her. She tried to pull herself together for a final effort, went down a few steps, and then—she did not know how it happened—she fell, and rolled down a half flight to the landing. When she regained consciousness, she found herself surrounded by employees. The manager, watch in hand, was observing her, and the mannequin lay in pieces near by. She asked to go home and was told that she would forfeit her pay for the hours she was absent, also for the time during which she had lain unconscious. That explained the manager's presence with his watch! And somehow this last cruelty, trifling as it was, took the heart out of her. What was she but a slave, worth only so many hours work to her owner? Then she was also told that she must pay for the mannequin.—Pay for it? Cold, frightened, wide-eyed, she had scarcely understood what they were saying. Pay, yes, pay so much every month, ten dollars a month knocked off her salary. That was what they meant. "How was she going to live on what was left?" "You can manage," they replied. "That's your business, not ours." She had no strength to argue the matter. Money, tradition, power were all against her. Probably they had right on their side too, as they had everything else!
When Monsalvat left her, he found Mauli and some others of his neighbors near the door. They grimaced at him. The caretaker, who had just left the group, to avoid Fernando's seeing him, stepped into a doorway and turned his back. Monsalvat passed by quite indifferent to the manoeuvre.
But no sooner was he out of sight than the man turned around and went to Nacha's door and knocked. Nacha, still crying, let him in. He was a person of disagreeable aspect, due chiefly to his over-meek and righteous expression, and his trick of keeping his eyes on the ground, and never looking at anyone he was speaking to. He never laughed, and walked very softly, with his arms close to his body. To his tenants he was merciless. Should they perchance fall two weeks behind with their rent, they were dispossessed even though sick in bed. A coward, he could nevertheless always count on the protection of the police in case of need.
"I have come ... Miss—(or would Madame, perhaps, be more appropriate?) to say that I am obliged—to give you notice. I hope you understand. Your conduct in this house cannot be allowed by any one who takes his responsibilities—as I hope I take mine—seriously. My landlady has the utmost confidence in me, and, under the circumstances...."
Nacha did not understand. She looked at the deceptive, hypocritical face, trying to guess what words it was going to utter. She could not imagine what this man wanted of her.