"Malkah had not spoken to her husband for about fifteen years. She was naturally a sour-tempered woman,—God forgive me for talking against the dead,—tall and thin, dark, with a pointed nose like a hook. She rarely said a word not relating to Parnosseh—she was a huckstress—and nobody wanted her to do so. Her look was enough to freeze you to the bone. All the other huckstresses trembled before her—there was an expression in her eye. So, you see, Yeruchem was quite content that she should be silent—he never said a word to her, either.
"For all this silence, however, they were blessed with two boys and three girls.
"But the desire to become householders made them conversational. The conversation was on this wise:
"'Malke!' (No answer.)
"'Malke!' (No answer.)
"He Malke's and she doesn't stir.
"But Yeruchem stands up and gives a shout:
"'Malke, I am going to build a house!'
"Malke could resist no longer, she raised an eye, and opened her mouth.
"'I thought,' she said afterward, 'that he had gone mad.'