Aaron.
But doesn't the girl know where he is?
Sachel.
No, no. Esther kept telling me that Rosa has had no word from Rafael. I would not believe it; and this morning I took hold of her; I cursed her up and down for not telling me where he was. She said if she knew where he was she would walk to him, if it was a thousand miles, rather than stay another night under my roof. Then, for the third time this week, she had a fit of hysterics—I never heard such sobs in all my life! When she quieted down she went up and put on the rags she first came here in; and since then she has refused to take food from us; she won't enter the house; she is wandering about here somewhere now. I don't know; though she be a Christian and a pauper, I suppose I'll have to accept her for my daughter-in-law, if he'll only come!
Aaron.
She, that broke up your home and took your son away from the finest young woman in the Ghetto? She, that robbed him of his faith and brought him to a pass where every one is saying that he has run away rather than face the consequences of his acts? H'm!
Sachel.
What am I going to do? If he's dead, I will keep her! Isn't she the only one in the world whose sorrow will approach mine?
But if he is not dead? If he comes back? [Circumspectly makes as if to open one of the letters.] Look here—