Part 41 (2/2)
”It must be pretty near six, ain't it?”
”I know it,” Miss Duckman said; ”and the doctor says at six you should take this here powder.”
”_Aber_ shouldn't you got to be getting ready to go back to the Home?”
he asked.
Miss Duckman shook her head.
”I ain't going back no more,” she answered. ”I got enough of them people.”
Rudnik looked helplessly at her.
”But what would you do?” he said. ”You ain't got no other place to go to, otherwise you wouldn't got to live in a Home.”
”Sure, I know,” she replied as she prepared to give him his powder; ”but _Gott sei dank_ I still got my health, and I am telling the lady superintendent here how they work me at the Home, and she says I could stop here till I am finding something to do. I could cook already and I could sew already, and if the worser comes to the worst I could find a job in an underwear factory. They don't pay much, but a woman like me she don't eat much. All I want is I could get a place to sleep, and I bet yer I could make out fine. So you should please take the powder.”
Rudnik swallowed his powder.
”You says you could cook,” he remarked after he had again settled himself on his pillow. ”_Tzimmus_, for instance, _und Fleisch Kugel_?”
”_Tzimmus und Fleisch Kugel_ is nothing,” she declared. ”I don't want to say nothing about myself, understand me, because lots of women to hear 'em talk you would think wonder what cooks they are, and they couldn't even boil a potater even; _aber_ if you could eat my _gefullte Rinderbrust_, Mister ----”
”Rudnik,” he said as he licked his moist lips, ”Harris Rudnik.”
”Mister Rudnik,” she proceeded, ”_oder_ my _Tebeches_, you would got to admit I ain't so helpless as I look.”
”You don't look so helpless,” Rudnik commented; ”I bet yer you could do was.h.i.+ng even.”
”Could I?” Miss Duckman exclaimed. ”Why, sometimes at the Home I am was.h.i.+ng from morning till night, _aber_ I ain't kicking none. It really agrees with me, Mr. Rudnik.”
Rudnik nodded. Again he closed his eyes, and had it not been that he swallowed convulsively at intervals he would have appeared to be sleeping. Suddenly he raised himself on his pillow.
”Do you make maybe a good cup coffee also?” he inquired.
”A good cup coffee I make in two ways,” Miss Duckman answered. ”The first is----”
Rudnik waved his hand feebly.
”I'll take your word for it,” he said, and again lapsed into quietude.
”D'ye know,” he murmured at length, ”I ain't drunk a good cup coffee in years already?”
Miss Duckman made no answer. Indeed she dropped her sewing and pa.s.sed noiselessly out of the room, and when she returned ten minutes later she bore on a linen-covered tray a cup of steaming, fragrant coffee.
”How was that?” Miss Duckman asked after he had emptied the cup.
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