She prayed and prayed, remembering bitterly the time when they were well off, and when Bartek used to earn money at the factory in winter. She tried to borrow money from her neighbours; they had none. The war had made itself felt all round. She did not dare to go to Just, because she was in his debt already, and had not even paid the interest. However, Just unexpectedly came to see her himself.
One afternoon she was sitting in the cottage doorway doing nothing, for despair had drained her strength. She was gazing before her at two golden butterflies chasing one another in the air, and thinking 'how happy those creatures are, they live for themselves and needn't pay'—and so on. After a while she sighed heavily, and a low cry broke from her pale lips: 'Oh God! God!' Suddenly at the gate appeared Just's long nose, and his long pipe beneath it. The woman turned pale. Just addressed her:—
'Morgen!'
'How are you, Herr Just?'
'What about my money?'
'Oh, my dear Herr Just, have pity! I am very poor, and what am I to do? They have taken my man away,—I have to pay the fine for him,—and I don't know where to turn. It would be better to die than to be worried like this from day to day. Do wait a while longer, dear Herr Just!'
She burst out crying, and seizing Herr Just's fat, red hand, she kissed it humbly. 'The Count will be back soon, then I will borrow from him, and give it back to you.'
'Well, and how will you repay the fine?'
'How can I tell?—I might sell the cow.'
'Then I will lend you some more.'