And he fancies that all the four children have put their arms round him and hold him and kiss and press him to them.
"Gently, children, gently; don't squeeze me too hard! I am no young man—I am eighty years old! Gently, you are suffocating me; gently, children! Old bones! Gently, there is money in the bag. Praise God, they trust me with money! Enough, children, enough!"
And it was enough. He sat there suffocated, with his hand pressed to the bag in his bosom.
IX
WHAT IS THE SOUL?
1
I remember, as in a dream, that there used to be about the house a little, thin Jew, with a pointed beard, who often put his arms round me and kissed me.