even occurred to the poor charwoman that the news might be false.
That evening, Antonia returned home later than usual, because she stopped at the primary school for her boy, and bought him some spice cakes and other dainties that he had long been wanting; and the two wandered from street to street, lingering before the shop windows. She forgot the dinner hour, and thought of nothing but of drinking in the air, and feeling herself alive, and little by little taking possession of herself.
So great was Antonia's self-absorption that she did not notice that her outer door was unlatched. Still holding the child by the hand, she entered the narrow quarters that served as parlor, kitchen and dining-room all in one, then recoiled in amazement at seeing that the candle was lighted. A huge, dark bulk raised itself from the table, and the scream which rose to the charwoman's lips was strangled in her throat.
It was he. Antonia, motionless, riveted to the ground, stared unseeingly at him, although the sinister image was mirrored in her dilated pupils. Her rigid body was for the moment paralyzed; her icy hands relaxed their hold upon the boy, who clung in terror to her skirts. The husband spoke:
"You were not counting on me today!" he murmured in a hoarse but tranquil tone; and at the sound of that voice, in which Antonia fancied that she could hear the echo of maledictions and threats of death, the poor woman, waking from her daze, came to life, emitted
