He tightened his grip, in his frenzy, and only when he saw her eyes closing did he realize that he was choking her. Then he relaxed his fingers, and crouched, waiting, until she opened her lids again. His breath beat hot into her face.

“Tell me,” he whispered, at last, “tell me about it.”

She lay perfectly motionless, and he had to hold his breath to catch her words. “I did not want⁠—to do it,” she said; “I tried⁠—I tried not to do it. I only did it⁠—to save us. It was our only chance.”

Again, for a space, there was no sound but his panting. Ona’s eyes closed and when she spoke again she did not open them. “He told me⁠—he would have me turned off. He told me he would⁠—we would all of us lose our places. We could never get anything to do⁠—here⁠—again. He⁠—he meant it⁠—he would have ruined us.”

Jurgis’s arms were shaking so that he could scarcely hold himself up, and lurched forward now and then as he listened. “When⁠—when did this begin?” he gasped.