In the morning, three more female relatives loaded with sacks moved in—they simply stepped over the poor painter and disappeared inside. Immediately, the vestibule filled with aromas of bread and garlic bologna. The painter knocked and asked for more money, but received an answer in the form of a huge fist. The fist waved at him blindly, and finally the painter grasped the hopelessness of his situation. The message was reinforced by the arrival of new guests, who filled the whole lobby with sacks and mattresses. Children gently frisked the painter's pockets; somebody was tugging on his coat. The former cupboard occupant barely managed to pull himself free and run away.
