in my hand and that’s why it is swelling. It isn’t healthy for anyone to be lazy. I said that to you more than once when we were both single and you used to wish that all the people could just ride around in carriages and do nothing.”
The tenant did not like the looks of the hand. It seemed to her that it was somehow caused from the bone.
“Just as soon as the snow melts, I’m going beyond the mountains to get you a doctor. He is very much renowned and doesn’t ask too much money either.”
“Let him ask what he will, I’ll count it out for him here on the table,” boasted Matýsek, jingling the coins in his pocket. He was grieved that Barka seemed to grow weaker from the afflicted hand and had to lie down every little while. When he did not have her beside him, he was lonely. They had to move her bed right under the very window so that she could see him clearly and he could look at her.
The tenant did not wait for the snow to melt, but at the first gleam of a warmer sun, when a little break could be seen through the windows in the orchard, she started out, over the mountains, not minding the snowdrifts and safely reached the doctor whom she brought back with her to Barka.
The doctor examined the swollen hand, drew out from his case some sort of oil and ordered that she should diligently rub it on the hand. If the oil did not help, she was to notify him and he would send some
