DAVID.
And Naum?
SARAH.
What about Naum? He has long been ill, you know it, and death upon a soft bed is not worse than death upon the pavement. And perhaps he will live yet, he will live yet (cries.) David, Abraham Khessin and Sonka's girl are waiting for you in the yard.
DAVID.
Morosely.
What do they want, money? Sarah, give them a few pennies and let them go.
SARAH.
In the end they will draw out all the money we have, Nullius. I have given to Khessin twice already. He is like sand,—no matter how much water you pour into it, it is always dry and greedy.
DAVID.