'I should think so! What should he loll in the bed for, and dirty the bedclothes? If he's got to give up, he will give up all the quicker in there…. Has he given me a single thing? What should he come to me for? Am I to pay for his funeral and give him his food? If he doesn't give up now—and I tell you, he is a tough one—then he'll eat us out of house and home. If Julina is to have everything let her look after him—that's nothing to do with me.'
'Isn't my father… and cheated us… he has. I don't care…. The old speculator!'
Antek swallowed the smoke of his cigarette and spat into the middle of the room.
'If he hadn't cheated us we should now have… wait a minute… we've got five… and seven and a half… makes… five and… seven…'
'Twelve and a half. I had counted that up long ago; we could have kept a horse and three cows… bah!… the carrion!'
Again he spat furiously.
The woman got up, laid the child down on the bed, took the little rag bundle from the chest and put it into her husband's hand.
'What's that?'
'Look at it.'
He opened the linen rag. An expression of greed came into his face, he bent forward towards the fire with his whole frame, so as to hide the money, and counted it over twice. 'How much is it?'