Elias closed his eyes and tried hard to sleep. But he could not sleep. It is doubtful whether, in view of his approaching wedding, he could have slept, under the most soothing circumstances. Under the actual circumstances, it was like trying to sleep while some one is sticking pins into you. Elias strove to be philosophical. “Why should I allow his mere presence to irritate me as it does?” he asked himself. Whatever the correct answer to this inquiry may have been, the fact remained that the rabbi's mere presence did irritate him to an excessive degree. He bore it for a few minutes silently. At length, flinging his philosophy overboard, he jumped up from his bed, and announced vehemently, “Well, I'm going out.”
“Ah,” said the rabbi, quietly, “I'll go with you.”
“Thanks,” replied Elias, “but I prefer to go alone.”
“I'm sorry,” said the rabbi; “but it is my duty.”
“What's your duty?”
“It is my duty not to let you leave my sight today.”
At this Elias lost his self-control.
“In heaven's name,” he blurted out, “do—do you mean to say that you're going to stick to me like this all day?”
“I should fail in my duty toward you, if I did not.”
“Well then, do you—do you know what you'll do?” cried Elias, in a loud, infuriated voice.