'A girl,' whispered Zoska, with her eyes fixed on Maciek, 'she is two years old… yes, he can have her, if he likes.'
'She'd be a deal of trouble to me,' muttered the labourer, 'all the same, it's a pity.'
'Take her,' repeated Zoska, 'Slimak is rich, you are rich….'
'Oh yes, Maciek is rich,' laughed Slimakowa, 'he drinks through six roubles in one Sunday.'
'If you can drink through six roubles, you can take her,' Zoska cried vehemently, pulling the child out of the shawl and laying it on the floor. It looked frightened, but did not utter a sound.
'Shut up, Jagna, and don't talk nonsense,' said Slimak. Zoska stood up and stretched herself.
'Now I shall be easy for once,' she said, 'I've often thought I'd like to throw her away into a ditch, but you may as well have her. Mind you look after her properly! If I come back and don't find her, I'll scratch out your eyes.'
'You are crazy,' said Slimak, 'cross yourself.'
'I won't cross myself, I'll go away….'
'Don't be a fool, and sit down to supper,' angrily cried the gospodyni. She took the saucepan off so impetuously, that the hot ashes flew all over the stove, and one touched Zoska's bare feet.