Part 20 (1/2)
”No.”
”I won her eleven pounds on the lotter_ee_.”
”How nice,” said Mrs. Hyams, a little fluttered.
”I would let you have half a ticket for two pounds.”
”I haven't the money.”
”Vell, dirty-six s.h.i.+llings! Dere! I have to pay dat myself.”
”I would if I could, but I can't.”
”But you can have an eighth for nine s.h.i.+llings.”
Mrs. Hyams shook her head hopelessly.
”How is your son Daniel?” Sugarman asked.
”Pretty well, thank you. How is your wife?”
”Tank Gawd!”
”And your Bessie?”
”Tank Gawd! Is your Daniel in?”
”Yes.”
”Tank Gawd! I mean, can I see him?”
”It won't do any good.”
”No, not dat,” said Sugarman. ”I should like to ask him to de Confirmation myself.”
”Daniel!” called Mrs. Hyams.
He came from the back yard in rolled-up s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, soap-suds drying on his arms. He was a pleasant-faced, flaxen-haired young fellow, the junior of Miriam by eighteen months. There was will in the lower part of the face and tenderness in the eyes.
”Good morning, sir,” said Sugarman. ”My Ebenezer is _Barmitzvah_ next _Shabbos_ week; vill you do me the honor to drop in wid your moder and fader after _Shool_?”
Daniel crimsoned suddenly. He had ”No” on his lips, but suppressed it and ultimately articulated it in some polite periphrasis. His mother noticed the crimson. On a blonde face it tells.
”Don't say dat,” said Sugarman. ”I expect to open dirteen bottles of lemonade. I have lent your good moder's corkscrew.”
”I shall be pleased to send Ebenezer a little present, but I can't come, I really can't. You must excuse me.” Daniel turned away.
”Vell,” said Sugarman, anxious to a.s.sure him he bore no malice. ”If you send a present I reckon it de same as if you come.”
”That's all right,” said Daniel with strained heartiness.
Sugarman tucked Nehemiah under his arm but lingered on the threshold. He did not know how to broach the subject. But the inspiration came.