He took his hat and turned his back upon the tragic embrace.
"David!" She called his name in an agonized hoarse voice. She held her arms towards him. He did not turn round.
"David!" Her voice rose to a shriek. "You will not leave me?"
He faced her exultant.
"Ah, you will come with me. You will be my wife."
"No—no—not now, not now. I cannot answer you now. Let me think—good-bye, dearest, good-bye." She burst out weeping. David took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Then he went out hurriedly.
Hannah wept on—her father holding her hand in piteous silence.
"Oh, it is cruel, your religion," she sobbed. "Cruel, cruel!"
"Hannah! Shemuel! Where are you?" suddenly came the excited voice of Simcha from the passage. "Come and look at the lovely fowls I've bought—and such Metsiahs. They're worth double. Oh, what a beautiful Yomtov we shall have!"