MENDEL But you see every few months the newspapers tell us of another _pogrom_, and then he screams out against what he calls that butcher's face, so that I tremble for his reason. I tremble even when I see him writing that crazy music about America, for it only means he is brooding over the difference between America and Russia. VERA But perhaps--perhaps--all the terrible memory will pass peacefully away in his music. MENDEL There will always be the scar on his shoulder to remind him--whenever the wound twinges, it brings up these terrible faces and visions. VERA Is it on his right shoulder? MENDEL No--on his left. For a violinist that is even worse. VERA Ah, of course--the weight and the fingering. [_Subconsciously placing and fingering an imaginary violin._] MENDEL That is why I fear so for his future--he will never be strong enough for the feats of bravura that the public demands. VERA The wild beasts! I feel more ashamed of my country than ever. But there's his symphony. MENDEL And who will look at that amateurish stuff? He knows so little of harmony and counterpoint--he breaks all the rules. I've tried to give him a few pointers--but he ought to have gone to Germany. VERA Perhaps it's not too late. MENDEL [_Passionately_] Ah, if you and your friends could help him! See--I'm begging after all. But it's not for myself. VERA My father loves music. Perhaps _he_--but no! he lives in Kishineff. But I will think--there are people here--I will write to you. MENDEL [_Fervently_] Thank you! Thank you! VERA Now you must go to him. Good-bye. Tell him I count upon him for the Concert. MENDEL How good you are! [_He follows her to the street-door._] VERA [_At door_] Say good-bye for me to your mother--she seems asleep. MENDEL [_Opening outer door_] I am sorry it is snowing so. VERA We Russians are used to it. [_Smiling, at exit_] Good-bye--let us hope your David will turn out a Rubinstein. MENDEL [_Closing the doors softly_] I never thought a Russian Christian could be so human. [_He looks at the clock._] _Gott in Himmel_--my dancing class! [_He hurries into the overcoat hanging on the hat-rack. Re-enter DAVID, having composed himself, but still somewhat dazed._] DAVID She is gone? Oh, but I have driven her away by my craziness. Is she very angry? MENDEL Quite the contrary--she expects you at the Concert, and what is more---- DAVID [_Ecstatically_] And she understood! She understood my Crucible of God! Oh, uncle, you don't know what it means to me to have somebody who understands me. Even you have never understood---- MENDEL [_Wounded_] Nonsense! How can Miss Revendal understand you better than your own uncle? DAVID [_Mystically exalted_] I can't explain--I feel it. MENDEL Of course she's interested in your music, thank Heaven. But what true understanding can there be between a Russian Jew and a Russian Christian? DAVID What understanding? Aren't we both Americans?