Mother and Son
But perhaps, you may have something against it…I want you to tell me. Force you—I would not want to. You are, no Evil Eye, already a grown girl and… (Gitele makes a move to rise.) You do not need to answer now, child. Think it over first.
Gitele (hastily)
I will bring you a glass of milk, yes, bobbe’she?
(She does not wait for a reply, but runs out right. Malkele gazes anxiously for a while at the door through which Gitele has passed, and her face resumes, more deeply now, its look of quiet sorrow. She rises and walks feebly across the room.)
Malkele
As long as they are not safely married and living elsewhere, he must never return. Them, I must guard! (Standing before the portrait and speaking up to it.) I wonder do you know how much that resolution costs me? (With spirit.) Do you know that I had to stand for hours on the street like a beggar—just to be able to steal a look at him from the distance?
(She sighs heavily and returns slowly to the chair. From the bosom of her dress she takes a small key and fits it into the lock of the little box; Gitele enters with a glass of milk. Malkele, thoughtful and preoccupied, takes the glass of milk. Gitele seems distraught and moves aimlessly and nervously about, unable to make up her mind how to break the news of Moshele’s presence to her grandmother.)
33
