Then she faced the great congregation. Her eyes travelled straight to the face of the man she loved, whom she was shortly to marry. Her eyes danced with excitement, her cheeks were rosy with colour, her whole face was full of an indescribable rapture, as she cried:
“I am free!”
“True, sister, you are free!” the brother-in-law responded.
The rabbi moved swiftly to her side, and, looking into her face, said:
“O woman of Israel, you are free!”
With a shout that reminded Tom Hammond of the shout, “He is risen!” at the Easter service in the Greek churches of Russia, the excited, perspiring congregation cried: “Woman, you are free!”
A moment or two later the service concluded, and the building emptied. Walking homeward by Hammond’s side, Cohen said, “Only the most orthodox of Jews would dream of using Chalitza to free themselves for re-marrying. This is the only case I have personally known. By-the-bye, Mr. Hammond, it is said that about the middle of the eighteenth century that one of the Rothschild widows sought Chalitza, but failed to untie the lace of the shoe, and was disqualified from re-marrying.”
Cohen’s wife had stopped to speak to some friends. The young Jew joined her. Tom Hammond found himself moving forward by Zillah’s side.
“What an extraordinary service that was, Miss Robart!” he said.
“It was!” she glanced almost shyly away from him, for, unknown to himself his eyes were full of the warmest admiration.