"The whole pain, the whole anguish has to be suppressed, buried deep in the heart; and no matter how the heart is aching, _you_ have to smile and wear a smooth brow. It dies within you every second, and yet you must help to make plans for this time next year, settle about enlarging the house, buying a piano." His voice changed. "I am not equal to describing, to living through those times again; but _my_ sorrow and _her_ sorrow brought us nearer together." Lukave appeared in the distance. "I will tell you, in the few minutes I have left, that anyone so unhappy as that woman, and at the same time so full of sympathy and compassion for others, I never saw; and all so simple, so natural, without any exaggeration. "She never left Maria's bedside; she got round her husband to lend me money at a lower rate of interest. She was our watcher, our housekeeper, our cook, our most devoted friend, and when Maria died, it was almost harder to comfort her than me. "Then it was I became convinced that hatred between nations is _not_ natural. There's just a lot of trouble in the world, and the more passionate would protest, only the false scribe, the political advocate, drafts instead a denunciation of the Jews. "I saw clearly that the Jews are not inimical to us--that we _can_ live in peace." Lukave draws nearer and nearer to us--or we to it--and still I am afraid of the end. I interrupt him and ask: "And what became of the woman?" "How should I know? I buried my wife, sold the apothecary's shop, cried when I said good-bye to my neighbor, and--that's all. Now I live in Lukave. I am not doing well there, either." "And what was the name of the little town you lived in before?" "Konska-vola."[7] "Your neighbor was tall and pale?" "Yes." "Thin?" "Yes--you know her?" he asked, looking pleased. "She has a mole on the left side of her nose?" "A mole?" laughed Yanek. "What an idea!" I think I must have made a mistake and say: "Perhaps on the right side?" "My dear fellow, what are you talking about?" "Perhaps you did not notice--and her husband is yellow-skinned?" "Yes." "Called Chaïm?" "I think not, and yet--perhaps---- devil may care!" "But _her_ name is Hannah?" "_Ach_, nonsense! Sarah! I remember I called her Sòruchna. I shouldn't have forgotten her name." _I_ was the fool. Are there so few Jewish women leading similar lives? IV THE NEW TUNE The end of the Day of Atonement. A blast on the Shofar, and the congregation stirred noisily: "Next year in Jerusalem!" The boys made a dash at the candle-wax on the table, a week-day reader was already at the desk, and the week-day evening prayer was being recited to a week-day tune. Full tilt they recited the prayers and full tilt they took off robes and prayer-scarfs and began to put on their boots--who has time to spare?