Aaron's pale face grew almost ghastly at these shocking disclosures, and when Uncle Mosha concluded his audacious creed with a furtive wink his nephew visibly started.
"But you got plenty other money to invest in the stock market without you would sell the house, Uncle Mosha," he said.
"Have I?" Uncle Mosha rejoined. "That's news to me, Aaron. You see in nineteen-seven was a big panic and some stocks is better as others. Them which ain't, Aaron, they went and gone so low, Aaron, they ain't never come back again and perhaps never will. Might you heard something about it in Port Sullivan maybe? Ten thousand dollars I dropped on them suckers down in Wall Street, Aaron."
Uncle Mosha smiled blandly at his nephew, who grasped the edge of the table to steady his whirling senses.
"But what's the use talking," Uncle Mosha continued. "What is vorbei is vorbei; and I guess I would have another cup of coffee."
"You had enough coffee," Aaron cried sternly. "So you gone and dropped your money on stocks, hey?"
Uncle Mosha shrugged and extended one palm in philosophic resignation.
"It was my own money, Aaron," he said. "I didn't stole it."
"This ain't no time for making jokes, Uncle Mosha," Aaron retorted. "Who was it you was going to sell the house to?"
"Maybe you know him," Uncle Mosha said. "It's a feller by the name Mawruss Perlmutter."