"Speak no word, Paulina." The woman paled beneath the dirt and tan upon her face.
"Who is it ?" she whispered with parched lips.
"You know it is Michael Kalmar, your husband.

Come forth.
I wait behind yon hut.

No word to any man." "You mean to kill me," she said, her fat body shaking as if with palsy.
"Bah! You Sow! Who would kill a sow?
Come forth, I say.

Delay not." He disappeared at once behind the neighbouring shack.

Paulina, trembling so that her fingers could hardly pin the shawl she put over her head, made her way through the crowd.