"Meir," he said, "why do you look so stern? I have never seen you look so stern before."
Meir did not seem to have heard his friend's remark. His eyes were fixed upon the floor, and he murmured:
"My uncle Abraham! My uncle Abraham! Woe to our house. Shame to the house of Ezofowich!"
In the next room, divided from Eliezer's by a thin wall, loud voices and bustle were audible. Jankiel shouted at his wife to go away and take the children with her. Jenta's low shoes clattered upon the floor, and the suddenly-roused children began to squall. By degrees the noise sounded fainter and farther off. Then the floor resounded with the steps of men, chairs were drawn together, and a lively discussion in low but audible voices began.
Meir suddenly rose.
"Eliezer," he whispered, "let us go away."
"Why should we go away?" said the young man, raising his head from the book.
"Because the walls are thin," began Meir.
He did not finish, for from the other side of the wall came the violent exclamation from his uncle Abraham:
"I do not know anything about that; you did not tell me, Jankiel."