sister-in-law.

"Who's quarreling? Can't I open my head without bein' jumped on
by the two of you?"

Saxon shrugged her shoulders despairingly, and Sarah swung about
on her husband.

"Seein' you love your sister so much better than your wife, why
did you want to marry me, that's borne your children for you, an'
slaved for you, an' toiled for you, an' worked her fingernails
off for you, with no thanks, an 'insultin' me before the
children, an' sayin' I'm crazy to their faces. An' what have you
ever did for me? That's what I want to know--me, that's cooked
for you, an' washed your stinkin' clothes, and fixed your socks,
an' sat up nights with your brats when they was ailin'. Look at
that!"

She thrust out a shapeless, swollen foot, encased in a monstrous,
untended shoe, the dry, raw leather of which showed white on the
edges of bulging cracks.

"Look at that! That's what I say. Look at that!" Her voice was
persistently rising and at the same time growing throaty. "The
only shoes I got. Me. Your wife. Ain't you ashamed? Where are my
three pairs? Look at that stockin'."

Speech failed her, and she sat down suddenly on a chair at the
table, glaring unutterable malevolence and misery. She arose with
the abrupt stiffness of an automaton, poured herself a cup of