"Maybe," she murmured; "and anyhow I ain't so bad off as some of them other ladies up there which they used to got husbands and homes of their own."
"Ain't you a widder, too?" Rudnik asked, his curiosity again getting the upper hand.
"I ain't never been married," Miss Duckman answered as she drew her shawl primly about her.
"Well, you ain't missed much," Rudnik declared, "so far as I could see."
"Why," Miss Duckman exclaimed, "ain't you never been married, neither?"
Rudnik blinked solemnly before replying.
"You're just like a whole lot of ladies," he said; "you must got to find out everything." He turned away and stepped briskly on to the railroad track.
"But ain't you married?" Miss Duckman insisted.
"No," he growled as he started off. "Gott sei dank."
For a brief interval Miss Duckman stood and watched his progress along the ties, and then she gathered her parcels more firmly in her arms and began to negotiate the quagmire that led to the Home. She had not proceeded more than a hundred feet, however, when a locomotive whistle sounded in the distance.