untry. And a man who doesn't get
money, sir, can't accommodate. Now, what can I do for _you_, sir?"

If an amiable self-satisfaction is the mark of earthly bliss, Solomon
in all his glory was a pitiable mortal compared with Mr. Cohen--clearly
one of those persons, who, being in excellent spirits about themselves,
are willing to cheer strangers by letting them know it. While he was
delivering himself with lively rapidity, he took the baby from his wife
and holding it on his arm presented his features to be explored by its
small fists. Deronda, not in a cheerful mood, was rashly pronouncing
this Ezra Cohen to be the most unpoetic Jew he had ever met with in
books or life: his phraseology was as little as possible like that of
the Old Testament: and no shadow of a suffering race distinguished his
vulgarity of soul from that of a prosperous, pink-and-white huckster of
the purest English lineage. It is naturally a Christian feeling that a
Jew ought not to be conceited. However, this was no reason for not
persevering in his project, and he answered at once in adventurous
ignorance of technicalities--

"I have a fine diamond ring to offer as security--not with me at this
moment, unfortunately, for I am not in the habit of wearing it. But I
will come again this evening and bring it with me. Fifty pounds at once
would be a convenience to me."

"Well, you know, this evening is the Sabbath, young gentleman," said
Cohen, "and I go to the _Shool_. The shop will be closed. But
accommodation is a work of charity; if you can't get here before, and
are any ways pressed--why, I'll look at your diamond. You're perhaps
from the West End--a longish drive?"

"Yes; and your Sabbath begins early at this season. I could be here by
five--will that do?" Deronda had not been without hope that by asking
to come on a Friday evening he might get a better opportunity of
observing points in the family character, and might even be able to put
some decisive question.

Cohen assented; but here the marvelous Jacob, whose _physique_
supported a precocity that would have shattered a Gentile of his years,
showed that he had been listening with much comprehension by saying,
"You are coming again. Have you got any more knives at home?"

"I think I have one," said Deronda, smiling down at him.

"Has it two blades and a hook--and a white handle like that?" said
Jacob, pointing to the waistcoat-pocket.

"I dare say it has?"

"Do you like a cork-screw?"