Full text: The little review (8 (1922), 2)

it was to come into Dorothea’s house; to touch and to take care 
of her things and to be there when the daughters came—to 
serve them. She found that they had taken Dorothea’s clothes 
and the silver scentbottle away with them...and when their 
father had married her they had hated him for taking anyone 
in their mother’s place and had never come again. 
Karen had lived here with Andreas between silences and 
rages; doing all the work on the farm; keeping house for 
Andreas. She could not understand why everyone hated her 
for marrying him—as the years passed people shunned her 
even more. She saw no one, she was terribly alone. 
They came. The younger came first, a widow furled in rich 
black silk: pale and arrogant and full of hate. She went 
through her father’s papers, took what she wanted and waited. 
The other one came from a long distance, she brought two 
children with her. They stayed three days, they did not speak 
to Karen, they talked of their own lives.. .when they were not 
talking but sitting silent feeling the years of separation between 
them, the older one often let the tears run down her strong face, 
saying aloud as if to some sick memory “poor poor dear 
mother.” They never spoke of their father. 
Karen came and went getting the meals, making the beds 
and the fires. She wanted to speak, to tell them something, she 
wanted to take the children in her arms. These heartless 
women, she would appease them for all the years of hate. She 
came into the room and stopped, they looked at her and pale 
spots came at either side of their nostrils. She must speak 
quickly or she could never try again. She said in a low voice 
“I was never wife to your father.” They sat like granite... 
finally the older one tapped with her foot on floor and said— 
“So? I have heard.” 
• J € <*' «•— m « • i 
One winter Karen was dragged by a cow. No one passed 
the farm for two days, there was no way to call a doctor, she 
suffered, when a man hauling wood came along she was able 
to call out to him. The doctor examined her—he told her she 
would be helpless all the rest of her life. A niece, a woman 
of fifty whose life had been much better than her own, came 
to take care of her.

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