RANSVESTIA

"What I said. But it is yet too much money. We are not rich like some people. Since your poor father is no more ..." She paused, as she always did in memory of my father, then (as she always did), ploughed ahead: "We do not have much money. I have to work very hard.and this money was from your school fund for the uni- versity. There was no other way," she muttered.

"But mother

that."

for gosh sakes, you weren't supposed to buy all

"Maybe I should steal it? Hah? You get better idea?"

"Well, everybody else is borrowing the stuff, you know, from their sisters..."

"You got no sisters," she said, cutting me off.

"I know that, but we could have asked someone. You know, like Mrs. Rosalia she's got three daughters her."

―

we could have asked

"Borrow?" Her eyes grew large as she looked incredulous. "Borrow things like these? It is not proper - one does not borrow underwear brassiers and such. No. It is not done." That was always her ul- timate condemnation that something was not done.

"Well, I don't know" (and I really didn't she might be right). "But you could have borrowed some of this - I mean, you didn't have to buy the dress, too, did you? That would have saved some money - and the shoes..."

"Perhaps, but is still not right and, should we let Mrs. Rosalia know we are poor? Your grandfather owned..."

and

"Twenty square versts in the Ukraine..." I know, I know everybody was rich and had their own ponies and so on Mama, you don't understand."

She didn't seem to hear me, except for shooting a stern look at me as if I were mocking the memory of her father (I wasn't, but I heard the story on the average of three times a day she went on, grumbling, "Mrs. Rosalia

hire gypsies."

every day), and pfui! My father would not