As the soldiers filed out of synagogue, she squeezed towards Simon and seized his hand for an instant, whispering passionately: 'My lamb, marry her—we are all English alike.'
Nor did she ever know that she had said these words in Yiddish!
XII
Now came an enchanting season of confidences; the mother, caught up in the glow of this strange love, learning to see the girl through the boy's eyes, though the only aid to his eloquence was the photograph of a plump little blonde with bewitching dimples. The time was not ripe yet for bringing Lucy and her together, he explained. In fact, he hadn't actually proposed. His mother understood he was waiting for the year of mourning to be up.
'But how will you be married?' she once asked.
'Oh, there's the registrar,' he said carelessly.
'But can't you make her a proselyte?' she ventured timidly.
He coloured. 'It would be absurd to suddenly start talking religion to her.'
'But she knows you're a Jew.'