Finally he said: "In fact, she is so
wise I sometimes wish I could read her thoughts. I should give
anything to have a glimpse into her heart. She has so little to say to
me.
She thinks I am a fool. There is a sore in here "--pointing at his
heart.
"We have been married over twenty-two years, and yet--would you
believe it?--I still feel shy in her presence, as if we were brought
together for the first time, by a match-maker, don't you know. But
then you are too young to understand these things. Nor, indeed,
ought I to talk to you about them, for you are only a child. But I
cannot help it. If I did not unburden my mind once in a while I
might not be able to stand it."
That afternoon he composed what he called a "very sad tune," and
hummed it to me. I failed to make out the tune, but I could feel its
sadness
I loved him passionately. As for the other men of the synagogue, if
they did not share my ardent affection for him, they all, with one
exception, liked him. The exception was a middle-aged little
Talmudist with a tough little beard who held everybody in terror
by his violent temper and pugnacity.
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