A moment afterwards the Jew stood in my doorway. He was dressed in his Sabbath suit and, free from the incongruous indications of his homely calling, the patriarchal appearance which had first struck me was even more marked than before. His face was pale, his expression was severe, and if his tongue betrayed the broken English of the Polish Jew, I, in my confusion and fear, did not notice it then.
My first thought was that he had come to reprove me for neglecting my work, and I was prepared to promise to make up for my absence. But at a second glance I saw that something had happened, something had become known, and that he was there to condemn and denounce me.
"You have been out all night," he said. "Can you tell me where you have been?"
I knew I could not, and though it flashed upon me to say that I had slept at the house of a friend, I saw that, if he asked who my friend was, and what, I should be speechless.
The Jew waited for my reply and then said:
"You have given us a name—can you say it is your true and right one?"
Again I made no answer, and after another moment the Jew said:
"Can you deny that you have a child whom you have hidden from our knowledge?"
I felt myself gasping, but still I did not speak.
"Can you say that it was lawfully born according to your Christian marriage?"