Her man in Russia." "What!" exclaimed Mrs.Fitzpatrick in a terrible voice.
"An' do ye mane to say! An' that Rosenblatt--is he not her husband?
Howly Mother of God," she continued in an awed tone of voice, "an' is this the woman I've been havin' to do wid!" The wrath, the scorn, the repulsion in her eyes, her face, her whole attitude, revealed to the unhappy Paulina what no words could have conveyed.

Under her sallow skin the red blood of shame slowly mounted.

At that moment she saw herself and her life as never before.

The wrathful scorn of this indignant woman pierced like a lightning bolt to the depths of her sluggish moral sense and awakened it to new vitality.

For a few moments she stood silent and with face aflame, and then, turning slowly, passed into her house.