Page:Manhattan Transfer (John Dos Passos, 1925).djvu/369

Rh Anna raised herself to a sitting posture on the bed. She caught sight in the mirror opposite of a strained teardabbled face and rumpled stringy hair. "My Gawd I'm a sight," she sighed. As she got to her feet her heel caught on the braid of her dress. The dress tore sharply. Anna sat on the edge of the bed and cried and cried. Then she sewed the rent in the dress up carefully with tiny meticulous stitches. Sewing made her feel calmer. She put on her hat, powdered her nose copiously, put a little rouge on her lips, got into her coat and went out. April was coaxing unexpected colors out of the East Side streets. Sweet voluptuous freshness came from a pushcart full of pineapples. At the corner she found Rose Segal and Lillian Diamond drinking coca-cola at the softdrink stand.

"Anna have a coke with us," they chimed.

"I will if you'll blow me I'm broke,"

"Vy, didnt you get your strike pay?"

"I gave it all to the old woman Dont do no good though. She goes on scoldin all day long. She's too old."

"Did you hear how gunmen broke in and busted up Ike Goldstein's shop? Busted up everythin wid hammers an left him unconscious on top of a lot of dressgoods."

"Oh that's terrible."

"Soive him right I say."

"But they oughtnt to destroy property like that. We make our livin by it as much as he does."

"A pretty fine livin I'm near dead wid it," said Anna banging her empty glass down on the counter.

"Easy easy," said the man in the stand. "Look out for the crockery."

"But the worst thing was," went on Rose Segal, "that while they was fightin up in Goldstein's a rivet flew out the winder an fell nine stories an killed a fireman passin on a truck so's he dropped dead in the street."

"What for did they do that?"

"Some guy must have slung it at some other guy and it pitched out of the winder,"