'What is he saying?' one asked.
'He is settling something with his conscience.'
'A man must drink in spite of that war.'
He filled up his glass of vodka once or twice, then he spat, and his good humour unexpectedly returned.
'Have you ever stood talking to Steinmetz? But I have! Hurrah!—Drink! Who pays? I do!'
'You may pay, you drunkard,' sounded Magda's voice, 'but I will repay you! Never fear!'
Bartek looked at his wife with glassy eyes.
'Have you talked to Steinmetz? Who are you?'
Instead of replying to him, Magda turned to the interested listeners, and began to exclaim:
'Oh, you men, you wretched men, do you see the disgrace and misery I am in? He came back, and I was glad to welcome him as a good man, but he came back drunk. He has forgotten God, and he has forgotten Polish. He went to sleep, he woke up sober, and now he's drinking again, and paying for it with my money, which I had earned by my own work. And where have you taken that money from? Isn't it what I have earned by all my trouble and slavery? I tell you men, he's no longer a Catholic, he's not a man any more, he's bewitched by the Germans, he jabbers German, and is just waiting to do harm to people. He's possessed....'