Katie regarded her with a mixture of awe and admiration.
“You've got your nerve,” she said. “I wonder he didn't kill you. What's yours is his and what's his is his own!”
But Anna could not leave that morning. She lay in her bed, cold compresses on her swollen face and shoulders, a bruised and broken thing, planning hideous reprisals. Herman made no inquiry for her. He went stolidly about the day's work, carried in firewood and coal from the shed, inspected the garden with a view to early planting, and ate hugely of the mid-day dinner.
In the afternoon Rudolph came.
“Where's Anna?” he asked briskly.
“She is in her room. She is not well.”
If Rudolph suspected anything, it was only that Anna was sulking. But later on he had reason to believe that there trouble. Out of a clear sky Herman said:
“She has had a raise.” Anna was “she” to him.
“Since when?” Rudolph asked with interest.
“I know nothing. She has not given it to me. She has been buying herself a watch.”