“Come home now, Minna,” he pleaded.

But she stamped her foot suddenly.  “I ain’t goin’ to stand it!” she declared.  “I’m goin’ to take what I can get, I be.”  Her eyes rested first upon one thing, then another, then she looked hard at the Oriental rug, which the three tradesmen had discussed.  Then she swooped upon it and began gathering it up from the floor.

“Oh, Minna!  Oh, Minna!” gasped little Willy Eddy.

“You lemme be,” she said, fiercely.  “I see’d them men lookin’ at this.  It ain’t handsome, but it’s worth good money.  I heard something they said.  I ain’t goin’ to lose all that money.  I’m goin’ to take what I can git, I be.”

“Minna, you—­”

“Lemme be.”

“It ain’t accordin’ to law, Minna.”

“What do you s’pose I care about the law?” She turned to Estella Griggs, who was watching her eagerly, with a gathering light of fierce greed in her eyes.  “If you take my advice you’ll help yourself to something while you have the chance,” said she.

“Oh, Minna, it’s stealin’!  You’ll be liable—­”

“Liable to nothin’.  Stealin’!  If folks don’t steal no more ’n I do, I’ll risk ’em.  I’m a-takin’ my lawful pay, I be.  If you take my advice, you’ll take somethin’, too.”

Minna Eddy moved from the room with the rug gathered up in a roll in her arms, but Marie had been gradually recovering herself.  Now she came forward.

“You must not take that; that iss not your rug,” said she.  “You must not take that.”

“Git out,” said Minna Eddy.  She thrust at the Hungarian with her rug-laden arms, but the little peasant was as strong as she.  Marie caught hold of the rug and pulled; Minna also pulled.

“You lemme go,” said Minna, with a vicious voice, but lowered, for obvious reason.

“You must not take that,” said Marie.  She was, however, rather fainter-hearted than the other woman.

Minna suddenly got the mastery.  The Hungarian almost tumbled backward.  Minna, with the rug, was out of the room, her trembling, almost whimpering husband at her heels.  Madame Griggs looked at Marie.  Her distorted face was at once greedy, anguished, and cunning.  She began to gasp softly.

“Oh!  Oh!” said she.  “Oh!”

Marie regarded her in wondering agitation.

“Water! water! quick!  Oh, get some water!” moaned Madame Griggs.  “I am faint!  Water!” She sank into a chair, her head fell back.  She rolled her eyes at the terrified girl; she gasped feebly between her parted lips.

Marie ran.  Then up rose Madame Estella Griggs.  She swept the tea-table of its little Dresden service and some small, silver spoons.  She gathered them up in a little, lace-trimmed table-cover, and she fled with that booty and a sofa-pillow which she caught from the divan on her way out.

When Marie returned she stood gaping with the glass of water.  She was not over-shrewd, but she took in at once the situation.  She understood that the second lady had fled like the first, with the teacups, the spoons, the table-cover, and the sofa-pillow.  She stood looking desolately around the room, and her simple heart tasted its own bitterness.