For some time Sandu stayed alone in the workshop; he felt as though he could not move. His mistress's words rang continually in his ears, and he felt numbed by their harshness. The apprentice had come to call him to dinner, but he had not gone. It seemed to him they had all heard what the mistress said, and would have stared at him. Iotza and the other man returned from dinner and found him in the workshop, his hand resting on the vat. "Why, when you had turned the skins, didn't you come to dinner, or have you been talking to Ana?" sneered Iotza. Sandu heard his voice, but he did not take in what he said. He looked at him with great sad eyes, and not knowing what to do went outside. Sandu rose at daybreak the following day, but he could not have told if he had slept, or whether his thoughts had tormented him all night. He left the workshop without having done anything, he went to the pits, and took the skins out with the pincers to try whether they were ready to dress, then he returned to the workshop and was still quite unsettled. He went to dinner with the other men; he followed them; had anyone asked him whither he was going he could not have told them. They were alone, and all quite silent, and just this silence was painful to Sandu. He would have liked to hear conversation, a great deal of talking. They were about to rise from the table when the mistress arrived. Everything seemed to turn black before Sandu's eyes. After exchanging a few words, Iotza said: "Mistress, you better let me turn the skins in those two vats----" "Yes, you turn them, just like Sandu did." The blood rushed to his head as Sandu dropped his knife and spilt a piece of lard upon the table. "Do you think I shall pity you because you don't eat? You have not turned them well, and that's all. I didn't begin to keep a workshop to-day or yesterday." "Mistress----" "Oh, it's always mistress, mistress! Do your work properly, and don't let your thoughts go wandering far afield, then no one need find fault with you." The workmen rose. Sandu got up too; his feet could hardly carry him, and his head was heavy. For two whole days Sandu did not know whether he was himself or some one else. He could not take his food, sleep only came to him at rare intervals. And during this time he often thought of going to Master Dinu and giving him notice. Several times he had left the workshop determined to tell him, but once Iotza had called him to come and help with something, and then he had thought it over and had left it to a more suitable time when he should find Dinu alone, for in front of the mistress he could have said nothing to him. And who knows whether he would have said anything, if Master Dinu had not come through the workshop. He asked him how the skins were getting on, and then, as he never cared to prolong a conversation, he prepared to go, after telling him that one lot of work must be pressed forward, and the other done in such and such a way.