Read carefully the passage given below and answer the questions (a), (b) and (c) that follow:
Miss Martha Meacham had a little bakery on the corner. She was forty, her bank-book
showed a credit of two thousand dollars and she possessed two false teeth and a sympathetic
heart.
Two or three times a week a customer came in, in whom she began to take an interest.
He was a middle-aged man, wearing spectacles and a brown beard trimmed to a careful point.
He spoke English with a strong German accent. His clothes were worn and darned in places
and wrinkled and baggy in others. But he looked neat and had very good manners.
He always bought two loaves of stale bread. Never did he call for anything but stale
bread.
Once Miss Martha saw a red and brown stain on his fingers. She was sure then that he
was an artist and very poor. Often when she sat down to her light rolls and jam and tea she
would sigh and wish that the gentle-mannered artist might share her tasty meal instead of
eating his dry crust in that draughty attic.
Often now when he came he would chat for a while across the showcase. He seemed
to crave Miss Martha’s cheerful words.
Her heart ached to add something good to eat to his meagre purchase, but her courage
failed at the act. She did not dare affront him. She knew the pride of artists.
One day the customer came in as usual and called for his stale loaves. While Miss
Martha was reaching for them there was a great tooting and clanging and a fire-engine came
lumbering past. The customer hurried to the door to look. Miss Martha seized the
opportunity.
With a bread knife she inserted a generous quantity of butter on each of the stale
loaves and packed them.
For a long time that day her mind dwelt on the subject. She imagined the scene when
he would discover her little deception.
The front door bell jangled viciously.
Miss Martha hurried to the front. Two men were there. One was a young man and the
other was her artist.
His face was very red and he clinched his two fists and shook them ferociously at
Miss Martha.
“You half spoilt me” he cried, his blue eyes blazing behind his spectacles. “I will tell
you. You vas von meddingsome old cat!”
“Come on,” he said, “you’ve said enough.” The young man dragged the angry one out
at the door to the sidewalk and then came back.
“Guess you ought to be told, ma’am”, he said, “what the row is about. That's
Blumberger. He’s an architectural draftsman. I work in the same office with him.
“He’s been working hard for three months drawing a plan for a new city hall. It was a
prize competition. He finished inking the lines yesterday. You know, a draftsman always
makes his drawing in pencil first. When it's done he rubs out the pencil lines with handfuls of
stale bread crumbs. That's better than an eraser.”
“Blumberger’s been buying the bread here. Well, today – well, you know, ma’am,
that butter isn't – well, Blumberger’s plan isn’t good for anything now except to cut up into
railroad sandwiches.”
Miss Martha, with a sad face, went into the back room.Summarise, in not more than 100 words, the surprise ending of the story.
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wait what I didn't understood what your question is
By the way good night
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