"'IF YOU DON'T STOP THIS SCANDAL INSTANTER, WE WILL SEND YOU HOWLING!'"
"Is it excommunication you threaten?" said Manasseh, rising to his feet. There was a menacing glitter in his eye.
"This scandal must be stopped," repeated the President, agitatedly rising in involuntary imitation.
"Any member of the Mahamad could stop it in a twinkling," said Manasseh sullenly. "You yourself, if you only chose."
"If I only chose?" echoed the President enquiringly.
"If you only chose my daughter. Are you not a bachelor? I am convinced she could not say nay to anyone present—excepting the Chancellor. Only no one is really willing to save the community from this scandal, and so my daughter must marry as best she can. And yet, it is a handsome creature who would not disgrace even a house in Hackney."
Manasseh spoke so seriously that the President fumed the more. "Let her marry this Pole," he ranted, "and you shall be cut off from us in life and death. Alive, you shall worship without our walls, and dead you shall be buried 'behind the boards.'"
"For the poor man—excommunication," said Manasseh in ominous soliloquy. "For the rich man—permission to marry the Tedesco of his choice."
"Leave the room, fellow," vociferated the President. "You have heard our ultimatum!"
But Manasseh did not quail.