"Look, will you? Mrs. Shapiro's coming down her front steps all diked out in a summer silk. I guess she goes down to have supper with her husband, since he keeps open evenings." "I don't want to say nothing; but I don't think it's so nice--do you, Mrs. Lissman?--the first month what her mourning for her mother is up a yellow bird of paradise as big as a fan she has to have on her hat." "Ain't it so!" "I wish you could see the bird of paradise my Birdie bought when her and Simon was in Kansas City on their wedding-trip--you can believe me or not, a yard long! How that man spends money on that girl, Mrs. Lissman!" "Say, when you got it to spend I always say it's right. He's in a good business and makes good money." "You should know how good." "The rainy days come to them that save up for them, like us old-fashioned ones, Mrs. Schimm." "I--Look, will you? Ain't that Izzy Shongut crossing the street? He comes home from work this early! I tell you, Mrs. Lissman, I don't want to say nothing; but I hear things ain't so good with the Shonguts." "So!" "Yes; I hear, since the old man bought out that sausage concern, they got their troubles." "And such a nice woman! That's what she needs yet on top of his heart trouble and her girl running round with Sollie Spitz; and, from what she don't say, I can see that boy causes her enough worry with his wild ways. That's what that poor woman needs yet!" "Look at Izzy, Mrs. Lissman. I bet that boy drinks or something. Look at his face--like a sheet! I tell you that boy ain't walking up this street straight. Look for yourself, Mrs. Lissman. Ach, his poor mother!" A current like electricity that sets a wire humming ran in waves along Mrs. Schimm's voice. "Look!" "Oh-oh! I say, ain't that a trouble for that poor woman? When you see other people's trouble your own ain't so bad." "Ain't that awful? Just look at his face! Ain't that a trouble for you?" "She herself as much as told me not a thing does her swell brother over on Kingston do for them. I guess such a job as that boy has got in his banking-house he could get from a stranger too." "'Sh-h-h, Mrs. Lissman! Here he comes. Don't let on like we been talking about him. Speak to him like always." "Good evening, Izzy." Isadora Shongut paused in the act of mounting the front steps and turned a blood-driven face toward his neighbor. His under jaw sagged and trembled, and his well-knit body seemed to have lost its power to stand erect, so that his clothes bagged. "Good evening, Mrs.--Lissman." "You're home early to-night, Izzy?" "Y-yes." He fitted his key into the front-door lock, but his hand trembled so that it would not turn; and for a racking moment he stood there vainly pushing a weak knee against the panel, and his breath came out of his throat in a wheeze. The maid-of-all-work, straggly and down at the heels, answered his fumbling at the lock and opened the door to him. "You, Mr. Izzy!"