"Why not?" she answered. "I would like it very much. When zeide shall sell a great many baskets, and I shall spin much wool we will buy another little kid."
"For whom do you spin the wool?"
"There are some good women who help me in that way. Hannah, Witebski's wife, your aunt Sarah, Ber's wife, give me wool to spin and then they pay me with copper—sometimes with silver money."
"Then you sometimes come to our house to take the wool for spinning from Sarah, Ber's wife?"
"Yes."
"And why have I never seen you?"
"Because they wish me to come secretly. Ber and his wife Sarah are very good-hearted people, but they don't wish anyone to know that they help us. I come to see them when there is nobody in the house except Lijka, your cousin, and I try to slip in in such a way that the black man could not see me."
"Whom do you mean by the 'black man'?" asked Meir in astonishment.
"Rabbi Isaak Todros!" answered Golda softly—almost in a whisper.
At the sound of that name pronounced by Golda, Meir's face, formerly beaming, full of pity, blushing with emotion, quivered nervously. He grew suddenly silent and looked into space with eyes filled with gloomy lights. He became so thoughtful that a deep line appeared on his white forehead. It seemed to him that he had forgotten that he was not alone.