“I want to go home,” Jurgis said. “I’m worried about my wife⁠—I can’t wait any longer.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say so before?” said the man. “I thought you didn’t have any home to go to.”

Jurgis went outside. It was four o’clock in the morning, and as black as night. There were three or four inches of fresh snow on the ground, and the flakes were falling thick and fast. He turned toward Aniele’s and started at a run.

There was a light burning in the kitchen window and the blinds were drawn. The door was unlocked and Jurgis rushed in.

Aniele, Marija, and the rest of the women were huddled about the stove, exactly as before; with them were several newcomers, Jurgis noticed⁠—also he noticed that the house was silent.

“Well?” he said.