“You poor child! You go right up to your dear, old lady mother, and I’ll come some other time.” Instantly Fanny regretted her words. Mrs. Van Suyden’s pity only roused her wrath the more against her mother. Breathless from climbing the stairs, Hanneh Breineh entered the apartment just as Fanny tore the faultless millinery creation from her head and threw it on the floor in a rage. “Mother, you are the ruination of my life! You have driven away Mrs. Van Suyden, as you have driven away all my best friends. What do you think we got this apartment for but to get rid of your fish smells and your brawls with the servants? And here you come with a basket on your arm as if you just landed from steerage! And this afternoon, of all times, when Benny is bringing his leading man to tea. When will you ever stop disgracing us?” “When I’m dead,” said Hanneh Breineh, grimly. “When the earth will cover me up, then you’ll be free to go your American way. I’m not going to make myself over for a lady on Riverside Drive. I hate you and all your swell friends. I’ll not let myself be choked up here by you or by that hall-boss policeman that is higher in your eyes than your own mother.” “So that’s your thanks for all we’ve done for you?” cried the daughter. “All you’ve done for me!” shouted Hanneh Breineh. “What have you done for me? You hold me like a dog on a chain! It stands in the Talmud; some children give their mothers dry bread and water and go to heaven for it, and some give their mother roast duck and go to Gehenna because it’s not given with love.” “You want me to love you yet?” raged the daughter. “You knocked every bit of love out of me when I was yet a kid. All the memories of childhood I have is your everlasting cursing and yelling that we were gluttons.” The bell rang sharply, and Hanneh Breineh flung open the door. “Your groceries, ma’am,” said the boy. Hanneh Breineh seized the basket from him, and with a vicious fling sent it rolling across the room, strewing its contents over the Persian rugs and inlaid floor. Then seizing her hat and coat, she stormed out of the apartment and down the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Pelz sat crouched and shivering over their meager supper when the door opened, and Hanneh Breineh in fur coat and plumed hat charged into the room. “I come to cry out to you my bitter heart,” she sobbed. “Woe is me! It is so black for my eyes!” “What is the matter with you, Hanneh Breineh?” cried Mrs. Pelz in bewildered alarm.