It grew to be a customary thing for the thin, sick woman to come daily for bread, and she was never refused.

She said with a sensitive eagerness that when she was well again she would work and pay all back, and Rosa's grandmother answered "Yes," cheerily, to this promise, though any one who looked at the poor young mother's face could see that there was small prospect of her ever being well again in this world.

Her husband still drank.
Times grew harder and harder at the panaderia.

In the midst of the winter a heavy blow fell, for the Zanjero's wife took a fancy to making her own bread, and as she was the regular customer who bought more loaves and paid more promptly than the other, the panaderia felt the loss keenly.

Customers were very scarce, and the grandmother's eyes became so weak that she could no longer sew.