"Why are you looking at the pond?" asked Meir, who could no longer keep his eyes from the girl's face.
"I would like to get as many as I could of those branches growing over there," answered the girl.
"What for?"
"I would carry them home. Zeide makes baskets of them, then he sells them in the market and buys bread, and sometimes fish. For a long time zeide has had no willow to make baskets, and he grieves."
"Why don't you take them if you need them?"
I am not permitted.
"Why not? Everyone from the town may cut the branches. This meadow and that grove belong to the whole community of Szybow."
"It doesn't matter; I am not permitted. We don't believe in the Talmud; we don't light candles on the Sabbath—nothing is allowed us."
Meir rose suddenly.
"Come," said he to Golda, "I will be with you, and you may cut as many branches as you like. Don't be afraid of anything."