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 Matýsek smiled contentedly, jingling the money in his pocket. “Neither is such a fine disposition as yours possessed by many women on earth. You know how to be cheerful about everything and you can foretell and promise things before they really happen. Only please stop being so thin and pale! And your lips are so blue and how they quiver!”

And again Matýsek patted the bandaged hand and gazed at her with an uncertain, solicitous gaze as before. I’ll be better at once, and as soon as I eat a few of your berries I’ll run about like a chick.”

“I wish you could do it right now!”

“I shall. I have it all arranged with the Virgin Mary. But when she calls me, I must visit her at Vambeřice. She asked it of me last night in a dream and I promised her I’d go.”

“You shouldn’t have promised her that,” complained Matýsek and hung his head. “You gave us your word with uplifted hand that you’d never again go on a pilgrimage.”

“This time it will be altogether different,” Barka explained. “Our tenant will do everything to suit you much better, and the children, too, are better behaved. Everything will go on as if I were here.”

“Oh, no it won’t, it won’t!” interposed Matýsek and he held on to her feather bed like a child which fears its mother will slip away.

“You’ll see that it will,” Barka smiled at him but within she felt as if she already stood on God’s pillar.