Sachel.
Did I have my day? I was one of eight souls who crawled and starved in a room half as big as my shop parlour. I have known hunger to gnaw at my belly, till I cried myself to sleep, and dreamt that I was disembowelled. And my grandmother died, and my little sister too, from sheer want. Sheer want! At his age I could have bought and sold him twice a day. The fellow is a worthless vagabond!
Aaron.
H'm. I suppose, if the truth be said, he is a worthless vagabond!
Sachel.
You—what affair is it of yours? You would give half you have—and that wouldn't be much—to have him in your household!
Ha! My daughter has no haste to wed.
Sachel.
Who said anything about wedding? It is you that seem to have the subject on your mind.