Sara
[Proudly]. Ain’t it you are mine man—my Cantor?
Cantor
Sara, my dear one, you are a good wife, and you were a good mother. You don’t deserve such a son.
[Faintly from the hallway is heard a boyish voice singing “Red Hot Mama.” Neither the Cantor nor Sara hear it as yet. Sara continues.]
Sara
All right, all right. Forget all your troubles tonight. Lawyer Adler from uptown—he is coming at eight o’clock. The Luryas and the Goldsteins are coming too,—with automobiles. Your birthday—
[The Cantor now hears the singing, which is coming closer. He raises his hand. His face is suddenly the face of a corpse, as the door opens and Moey enters, blithely singing, “Every time I look at you, I want to hotter Hot Tamales.” He sees the Cantor, stops his singing, says, “Good evening, Cantor,” and then moves—a well-fed little boy—to the chair by the table, as the curtain falls.]