Zerkow had taken Maria home to his wretched hovel in the alley back of the flat, and the flat had been obliged to get another maid of all work.
Time passed, a month, six months, a whole year went by.

At length Maria gave birth to a child, a wretched, sickly child, with not even strength enough nor wits enough to cry.

At the time of its birth Maria was out of her mind, and continued in a state of dementia for nearly ten days.

She recovered just in time to make the arrangements for the baby's burial.
Neither Zerkow nor Maria was much affected by either the birth or the death of this little child.

Zerkow had welcomed it with pronounced disfavor, since it had a mouth to be fed and wants to be provided for.
Maria was out of her head so much of the time that she could scarcely remember how it looked when alive.