For the first time during her conversation with Meir, Golda dropped her eyes and mechanically began to pluck the high grass growing around her. Meir looked at her silently. The innocence of her heart was plainly manifested in her confusion, which caused him to blush, and a timid joy shone with double light from his gray eyes, which remained cast down.
"Sit beside me," said he finally, in a soft voice.
The girl rose from the ground and sat in the place indicated by him. She had recovered all her boldness and gravity. She was silent and looked at the youth who did not look at her. They were silent a long time. Silence was around them; only above their heads the tall birches rustled softly, and around the pond near by, which was grown up with osier, the whistling and carolling of the marsh-dwelling birds was heard.
Meir, who kept looking at the grass spread at his feet, was the first to speak:
"Why do you bring your goat so late to the pasture?"
Golda answered:
"Because I don't wish to meet the other girls here."
"Do they also persecute you?"
"They laugh at me when they see me, and call me ugly names, and drive me from them."
Meir raised his eyes to the girl, and in his glance there was deep pity.