But she sees from the table that the startled child, weak as it is, has
sat up in the cradle, and is reaching over the side--it is trying to get
out--
"Mame, M-mame," it sobs feebly.
A fresh paroxysm of anger seizes her.
She flings away the rope, jumps off the table, runs to the child, and
forces its head back into the pillow, exclaiming:
"Bother the child! It won't even let me hang myself! I can't even hang
myself in peace! It wants to suck. What is the good? You will suck
nothing but poison, poison, out of me, I tell you!"
"There, then, greedy!" she cries in the same breath, and stuffs her
dried-up breast into his mouth.
"There, then, suck away--bite!"