“Who can tell why they’ve done it?⁠ ⁠… Here am I, left alone with the children! There’s nothing for me but to die.⁠ ⁠… Only I’m sorry for the children! My last hope is in your kindness, because, you see, it was not right!”

I wrote down the name of her village, and her name and surname, and told her I would see about it and let her know.

“Help me, if it’s only ever so little!⁠ ⁠… The children are hungry, and, God’s my witness, I haven’t so much as a crust. The baby is worst of all⁠ ⁠… there’s no milk in my breasts. If only the Lord would take him!”

“Haven’t you a cow?” I asked.

“A cow? Oh, no!⁠ ⁠… Why, we’re all starving!” said she, crying, and trembling all over in her tattered coat.