“When was that?”
“Yesterday.”
“Then he had been here?”
“He came last night to ask for his money. I told him we had none, and he laughed and said we must get some. He told me I might get some if I cared to. He said I could make, oh, so much!”
Gregorio scowled savagely. “The filthy Jew! he said that? Never, never, never!”
“But we must get some money,” the woman sobbed, “if only for our son’s sake, Gregorio. But not that way?”
“No, not that way,” he replied, savagely.
“When shall you go to him?”
“Now.”
And taking up his hat he rushed into the street. He was terribly angry, not so much at the purport of the Jew’s speech as at the man who made it. He loathed the Jews, and felt insulted when spoken to by one; it was a terrible matter to ask this man for help, but it was intolerable that his wife should suffer insult. And yet the child must be fed. Yes, she had said that, and it was true. They must make sacrifices for the child.