n, I must tell you--I
tell you everything, you know--where do you think the things that he
takes have come from? But perhaps you know."

"Indeed I do not."

"They were sent to me by Rebecca Loth."

"By Rebecca!"

"Yes; by your friend Rebecca. She must be a good girl."

"She is a good girl, Nina."

"And you shall know everything; see--she sent me these," and Nina
showed her shoes; "and the very stockings I have on; I am not ashamed
that you should know."

"Your want, then, has been so great as that?"

"Father has been very poor. How should he not be poor when nothing is
earned? And she came here, and she saw it."

"She sent you these things?"

"Yes, Ruth came with them; there was a great basket with nourishing
food for father. It was very kind of her. But, Anton, Rebecca says that
I ought not to marry you, because of our religion. She says all the
Jews in Prague will become your enemies."

"We will not stay in Prague; we will go elsewhere. There are other
cities besides Prague."

"Where nobody will know us?"

"Where we will not be ashamed to be known."

"I told Rebecca that I would give you back all your promises, if you
wished me to do so."

"I do not wish it. I will not give you back your promises, Nina."

The enraptured girl again clung to him. "My own one," she said, "my
darling, my husband; when you speak to me like that, there is no girl
in Bohemia so happy as I am. Hush! I thought it was father. But no;
there is no sound. I do not mind what anyone says to me, as long as you
are kind."

She was now sitting on his knee, and his arm was round her waist, and
she was resting her head against his brow; he had asked for no pardon,
but all the past was entirely forgiven; why should she even think of it
again? Some such thought was passing through her mind, when he spoke a
word, and it seemed as though a dagger had gone into her heart. "About
that paper, Nina?" Accursed document, that it should be brought again
between them to dash the cup of joy from her lips at such a moment as
this! She disengaged herself from his embrace, almost with a leap.
"Well! what about the paper?" she said.

"Simply this, that I would wish to know where it is."

"And you think I have it?"

"No; I do not think so; I am perplexed about it, hardly knowing what to
believe; but I do not think you have it; I think that you know nothing
of it."

"Then why do you mention it again, reminding me of the cruel words
which you s