The Hebrew said, “Wait.” George’s white face, the sharp etched lines of misery, his despairing eyes puzzled him “What is that?” he asked, nodding at the bundle.
George put the bundle on the counter. “It’s my cat,” he said unevenly.
The woman looked at the bundle and then at George. “What’s he talking about?” she asked impatiently.
Max touched the bundle with two bony fingers. He felt the hard body and he grimaced.
“Is this a trick?” he said, not believing it was a trick, but bewildered.
“Would you mind looking?” George said. “Could you look so that I don’t have to see him again?” His mouth tightened. “I’m sorry to be so upset, but he was really the only thing that meant anything to me.”
“Perhaps he’s mad,” Emily said, half to herself.
Reluctantly, the Hebrew lifted the corner of the towel. His face revealed an impersonal disgust, but he turned the bundle so that the woman could see.
“She did that,” George said.
Both Emily and Max seemed to know whom he meant.