The Reb's face grew dark as night. There was a moment of dread silence.
"Here you are, father," said Hannah, returning with the wine and some glasses which she had carefully dusted. Then she paused and gave a little cry, nearly losing her hold of the tray.
"What's the matter? What has happened?" she asked anxiously.
"Take away the wine—we shall drink nobody's health to-night," cried
David brutally.
"My God!" said Hannah, all the hue of happiness dying out of her cheeks.
She threw down the tray on the table and ran to her father's arms.
"What is it! Oh, what is it, father?" she cried. "You haven't had a quarrel?"
The old man was silent. The girl looked appealingly from one to the other.
"No, it's worse than that," said David in cold, harsh tones. "You remember your marriage in fun to Sam?"
"Yes. Merciful heavens! I guess it! There was something not valid in the Gett after all."
Her anguish at the thought of losing him was so apparent that he softened a little.