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 460 BLINKIN

vorkes that it inevitably became known to all. Not (preserve us !) to the men they know of nothing, and need to know of nothing only to the women. But how much can anyone keep to oneself? It will rise to the surface, and lie like oil on the water.

From early morning on the women have been hiss- ing and steaming, bubbling and boiling over. They are not thinking of Parnosseh; they have forgotten all about Parnosseh; they are in such a state, they hare even forgotten about themselves. There is a whole crowd of them packed like herrings, and all fire and flame. But the male passer-by hears nothing of what they say, he only sees the troubled faces and the droop- ing heads; they are ashamed to look into one another's eyes, as though they themselves were responsible for the great affliction. An appalling misfortune, an overwhelming sense of shame, a yellow-black spot on their reputation weighs them to the ground. Unclean- ness has forced itself into their sanctuary and defiled it; and now they seek a remedy, and means to save themselves, like one drowning; they want to heal the plague spot, to cover it up, so that no one shall find it out. They stand and think, and wrinkle the brows so used to anxiety; their thoughts evolve rapidly, and yet no good result comes of it, no one sees a way of escape out of the terrifying net in which the worst of all evil has entangled them. Should a stranger happen to come upon them now, one who has heard of them, but never seen them, he would receive a shock. The whole of Pidvorkes looks quite different, the women, the streets, the very sun shines differently, with