, great part of my life; and because of them, and
through them I had lost my happiness--lost it, lost it for ever!

Lost it for ever? No, it cannot be--it cannot be! Have I not come
back--have I not returned in good time?... If only I could manage to
talk with Busie, all alone with her! If only I could get to say a few
words to her. But how could I speak with her, all alone, the few words I
longed to speak, when everybody was present--when the people were all
crowding around me? They were all examining me as if I were a bear, or a
curious creature from another world. Everybody wanted to see and hear
me--to know how I was getting on, and what I was doing. They had not
seen me for such a long time!

More intently than any one else was my father listening to me. He had a
Holy Book open in front of him, as always. His broad forehead was
wrinkled up, as always. He was looking at me from over his silver
spectacles, and was stroking the silver strands of his silvery-white
beard, as always. And I imagined that he was looking at me with other
eyes than he used to look. No, it was not the same look as always. He
was reproaching me. I felt that my father was offended with me. I had
acted contrary to his wishes. I had refused to go his road, and had
taken a road of my own choosing....

My mother, too, was standing close behind me. She came out of the
kitchen. She left all her work, the preparations for the Passover, and
she was listening to me with tears in her eyes. Though her face was
still smiling, she wiped her eyes in secret with the corners of her
apron. She was listening to me attentively. She was staring right into
my mouth; and she was swallowing, yes, swallowing every word that I
said.

And Busie also stood over against me. Her hands were folded on her
bosom. And she was listening to me just as the others were. Along with
them, she was staring right into my mouth. I looked at Busie. I tried to
read what was in her eyes; but I could read nothing there, nothing at
all, nothing at all.

"Tell more. Why have you grown silent?" my father asked me.

"Leave him alone. Did you ever see the like?" put in my mother hastily.
"The child is tired. The child is hungry, and he goes on saying to him:
'Tell! Tell! Tell! And tell!'"

* * *

The people began to go away by degrees. And we found ourselves alone, my
father and my mother, Busie and I. My mother went off to the kitchen.
In a few minutes she came back, carrying in her h