banished to the pension house,” he said, but only in order to make a remark. “Well, if you think so we will be banished to the pension house,” he added. “Dost hear, aged wife of my bosom, we are banished—ousted.” And he said it in a tone of voice which implied “Misfortune begins from this moment.”
Loyka’s wife had turned away, and did not answer.
On this Loyka stepped close to his son’s side and began to speak again somewhat ceremoniously, as if to mark the importance of the present step of which, however, he was no longer master. “Thou seest, Joseph, thy mother: look at her. Her hair is already streaked with grey, just as my hair is streaked with grey. Thou wilt be hospodar here now, and if thou thinkest that thou canst safely wrong me, thy father, the Lord God forgive thee. But look that thou dost not wrong thy mother. She has suffered much for thy sake, she has loved thee all too dearly, and therefore wrong her not.”
At these words Loyka’s wife wiped her eyes (if it is possible to say so) outloud; that is to say she sobbed all the while as if she wished to demonstrate that her son had already frequently done her wrong, Loyka was meek and mild, and Joseph did not answer.
Only after a pause, Joseph enquired: “Then when would you like to shift your things?”
