calculated as a percentage of consumption would not be high) but in terms of the prospects of new contacts and connections it offered. It turned out that her predictions were not miscalculated. She attracted clients through her looks and sophistication. The most popular waitress, she made a number of acquaintances there. Unfortunately, she could not harmoniously harness all of them with her financial and personal aims. She worked hard—one day from morning until lunch, and the next day from lunch until evening. Her income was liquid and was only enough to satisfy her own modest needs. But she was concerned about the survival of her family: mother, father, and brother. Consequently, she sought secondary sources of income and [132] she engaged in smuggling. To that end she made avail of her acquaintance with a certain Aryan cobbler, Mr K., who had organised a smuggler’s den in his workshop and who smuggled various goods into the ghetto. “Deliveries” took place at night. Mrs G. lived by the border between the ghetto and “Aryan Warsaw.” Her tenement gate was close to the wall, and a wooden fence ran along the sidewalk. As early as midnight Mrs G. went down into the gate to wait for Mr K.’s signal. When she heard the familiar whistle she boldly ran out to fetch the merchandise. The commercial contacts between Mrs G. and the cobbler soon acquired a more intimate character. Mr K. often jumped over the fence at night after delivery and they went to Mrs G.’s flat under the pretext of “squaring the accounts.” He often came during the day too, when she was not at work. Mrs G. was trying to keep up appearances to disguise the erotic aspect of their dealings. Despite her efforts the whole tenement soon learned the truth from the allusions her father made while taking confidentially with his neighbours (her father is a strict and defiant judge of his daughter’s actions, while her mother treats them with resignation and tolerance) and from the accounts of the residents who witnessed Mrs G. and the cobbler’s meetings. [Another source] were the risqué stories told by Mr K.’s Aryan friend, Mr Z., who often accompanied him to the place where Mrs G. used to work and where the three of them spent rather substantial amounts of money on vodka. He said, for instance, that one night Mr K. jumped out of bed half-conscious from intoxication and shouted, “I’m going to Guta! I must go to her!” while dressing in haste. His sister [133] threatened him to “denounce that Jewess” if he did what he said he would.
Despite improvement, the economic situation of Mrs G. and her family was still difficult and problematic. Making matters worse, Mrs G. was
