He lay back on his pillow and gazed at the ceiling for fully a quarter of an hour, while Miss Duckman sewed away industriously.
"After all," he said at last, "why not? Older men as me done it."
"Did you say something?" Miss Duckman asked.
Rudnik cleared his throat noisily.
"I says," he replied, "you should please be so good and don't bother yourself about that—now—underwear factory job till I am getting out of here."
"A Home is a Home," B. Lesengeld said as he and Belz sat in the office nearly a week later; "but if Schindelberger wouldn't show up here with Rudnik to-day yet, Belz, we would foreclose sure."
"Would we?" Belz retorted. "Well, I got something to say about that, too, Lesengeld, and I'm going to give the Bella Hirshkind people a couple days longer. To-day is Blooma Duckman's day out again, and me and Mrs. Belz we sit home last night and we couldn't do a thing on account Mrs. Belz is dreading it so. Think what it would be if that woman is thrown back on our hands."
"If she is so terrible as all that why do you let her come at all?" Lesengeld asked, and Belz heaved a great sigh.
"I'll tell you, Lesengeld," he said, "she's really got a very good heart, y'understand; aber is it Mrs. Belz's fault she ain't such a A Number One cook? Every time that Blooma Duckman comes round she rubs it in yet, and she snoops under beds to see is it clean oder not, and she gets the girl so worked up, understand me, that we are hiring a new one every week. At the same time the woman means well, Lesengeld, but you know how that is: some people means so well you couldn't stand 'em at all."