"How thoughtful Mann is!" cried Simon; "he wishes to put a halter around your neck, because misery loves company."
Jacob replied simply:--
"I cannot marry without love."
As he said these words he threw an involuntary glance toward Mathilde, who grew pale and looked down.
"What a rogue!" continued Simon, with a forced gravity. "To wish to put the sugar of love on the bitter dish of marriage, is to seek hypocrisy where one ought to expect duty and care only."
"Father Simon, we are so accustomed to your jests that your last remark can pass for one. It contains, however, many truths. Yet I venture to ask you if it is not permitted to aspire here below to a little joy and happiness? And true love can procure that."
"No; not in practical life. Romance has perverted your imagination."
"It is, then, forbidden to hope for a little poetry in this prosaic life?"
"Poetry! The Jew ought not to speak of it. Calculation should be our business. Two and two make five, because to admit that two and two make four implies a loss of interest. But to return to your marriage."
"Rather let us drop the subject."