"I'll study as hard as I can," I assured her, with boyish exultation.
"You'll see what I can do. The Gentile books are child's play in comparison with the Talmud."
I went into details. She took no part in my talk, but she let me go on. I became so absorbed in what I was saying that my caresses ceased. I sat up and spoke quite audibly
"'S-sh!" she cautioned me in an irritated whisper
I dropped my voice. She listened for another minute or two and then, suddenly rising, she said: "Oh, you are a Talmud student, after all," and her indistinct kimono vanished in the darkness
I felt crushed, but I was sure that the words "Talmud student," which are Yiddish for "ninny," merely referred to my rendering our confab dangerous by speaking too loud
The next afternoon she kissed me once more, calling me Talmud student again.
But she was apparently getting somewhat fidgety about our relations. She was more guarded, more on the alert for eavesdroppers, as though somebody had become suspicious. My Gentile education she never broached again. Finally when a letter came from her father announcing his speedy return and Shiphrah hastened to terminate my stay at the house, Matilda was obviously glad to have me go.
"I shall bring you the money to the synagogue," she whispered as I was about to leave
I was stunned. I left in a turmoil of misery and perplexity, yet not in despair