"Now, now," said David, putting his hand jocosely across the young man's mouth. "No more Hebrew. Remember what happened last time. Perhaps there's some mysterious significance even in that, and you'll find yourself let in for something before you know where you are."
"You're not going to prevent me talking the language of my Fathers," gurgled Sam, bursting into a merry operatic whistle when the pressure was removed.
"Milly! Leah!" cried Malka. "Come and look at my fish! Such a Metsiah!
See, they're alive yet."
"They are beauties, mother," said Leah, entering with her sleeves half tucked up, showing the finely-moulded white arms in curious juxtaposition with the coarse red hands.
"O, mother, they're alive!" said Milly, peering over her younger sister's shoulder.
Both knew by bitter experience that their mother considered herself a connoisseur in the purchase of fish.
"And how much do you think I gave for them?" went on Malka triumphantly.
"Two pounds ten," said Milly.
Malka's eyes twinkled and she shook her head.
"Two pounds fifteen," said Leah, with the air of hitting it now.