Sir Asher flushed angrily. 'But they go to the Argentine too. I heard of a colony even in Paraguay.'
'Where they are preaching the Unity to the Indians.'
'I do not discuss religion with a mocker. We are in exile by God's decree—we must suffer.'
'Suffer!' The artist's glance wandered cynically round the snug solidities of Sir Asher's exile, but he forbore to be personal. 'Then if we must suffer, why did you subscribe so much to the fund for the Russian Jews?'
Sir Asher looked mollified at Barstein's acquaintance with his generosity. 'That I might suffer with them,' he replied, with a touch of humour.
'Then you are a Jewish patriot,' retorted Barstein.
The bluff British face grew clouded again.
'Heaven forbid. I only know of British patriots. You talk treason to your country, young man.'
'Treason—I!' The young man laughed bitterly.
'It is you Zionists that will undermine all the rights we have so painfully won in the West.'