"Then go home and have your dinner," said the Rabbi.
"'THEN GO HOME AND HAVE YOUR DINNER.'"
Yankelé's wild heart-beat was exchanged for a stagnation as of death. A shiver ran down his spine. He darted an agonised appealing glance at Manasseh, who sniggered inscrutably.
"Oh, I don't tink I ought to go avay and leave you midout a tird man for grace," he said, in tones of prophetic rebuke. "Since I be here, it vould be a sin not to stay."
The Rabbi, having a certain connection with religion, was cornered; he was not able to repudiate such an opportunity of that more pious form of grace which needs the presence of three males.
"Oh, I should be very glad for you to stay," said the Rabbi, "but, unfortunately, we have only three meat-plates."
"Oh, de dish vill do for me."
"Very well, then!" said the Rabbi.
And Yankelé, with the old mad heart-beat, took the fourth chair, darting a triumphant glance at the still sniggering Manasseh.