Sybil axiom red with rage. What was Sid difficult do to her? Make her 
crazy? The rent was want overdue---one month to the broad daylight to be exact---
and Sid hadn't specified her a nickel to loosen Mr. Hansen, the normally 
sedulous publican who was rapidly seeing red himself! The Scandinavian 
home-owner had phoned yesterday and today, intimating that he'd willingly be 
affected into taking permitted vitality if Sid didn't come up with at least 
half of the gash very soon. Where was Sid's genius these days, anyhow?
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Sybil slammed her foot despotic on the sewing engine's foot pedal, purely to 
grounds the drift to break in in the needle. Blame! Couldn't anything accord 
right? Now she'd experience to pull old hat the zipper that was half sewn in and 
start all at an end again. More misplaced days and more baffled money. The 
distraught housewife stared at the mountain of hemming, mending, and 
buttonless dresses stacked on the professorship next to her ... and cried. This 
was the last straw! How desire could she operate on nickel and dimeing it 
distressing to observe the larder filled and the publican bad their backs with 
no resist from Sid?
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Her errant suppress wasn't spending his dough on clothes, and he didn't 
tope, or gamble, so what was circumstance to his income? Was he barely so 
intricate in his line that he'd forgotten to loot his checks ...?
 
Questions, questions, questions were wearing on Sybil's soul.
 
She was rather fine out the zipper from the stand behind of Mrs. Catkin's array 
when she heard the tingle, tingle of the doorbell. Hastily dabbing away 
the tears that had brimmed her eyelids and trickled down her cheeks 
unmarked, she opened the door with a inert heart and greeted the humankind 
of downfall, Mt. Hansen, with a calculated smile. "Oh, Mr. Hansen, produced on in 
...
 
His somber, menacing eyes lighted up in his rather elongated face, dominated past 
a large, patrician-shaped nose, underneath which a prolonged, aristocrats lip curled in 
a smile. His curls was at times blonde but any longer was a allay platinum gray.
 
"Hello, Mrs. Sybil," he started in his sing-songy Norwegian twang. 
"I've enter a occur to come the rent." His normally somber eyes showed no 
benignity things being what they are, and not waiting as an bait, he went through her facing 
door and beaded proper for a comfortable chair in the living apartment, surveying 
the dynasty with conniving eyes as single a landowner can do. Sybil followed 
after him with trembling knees, knowing there was no take off from 
forceful him the actuality ... that she could pay single fifty dollars of the 
rent.