"Polatkin, do me the favour," Philip begged, "and don't make a damn fool of yourself."
"What did I told you?" Polatkin retorted, but Philip turned to his nephew.
"What did your father do with the ticket and the money I sent him?" he asked.
"He sold the ticket and he used all the money for the wedding," the boy replied.
"The wedding?" Philip exclaimed. "What wedding?"
"The wedding with the widow," said the boy.
"The widow?" Philip and Marcus shouted in unison. "What widow?"
"The landlord's widow," the boy answered shyly.
And then as there seemed nothing else to do he buried his face in his hands and wept aloud.
"Nu, Philip," Marcus said, sitting down beside young Borrochson, "could the boy help it if his father is a Ganef?"