hesitating whether he'll go to bed or not ...what have I got to do with
your Fast-day?"

His face grew redder every moment; he had drunk a third and a fourth
glass, and there was nothing but a mere drain left in the bottle.
Already his utterance was thick and incoherent, and his eyes were fast
assuming that glassy brightness that is usually the forerunner of
helpless intoxication. It was a sight Ephraim could not bear to see.
Impelled by that natural, almost holy shame which prompted the son of
Noah to cover the nakedness of his father, he motioned to his sister to
leave. Then HE, too, softly walked out of the room.

Outside, in the corridor, the brother and sister fell into each other's
arms. Both wept bitterly: for a long time neither of them could find
words in which to express the grief which filled their souls. At length
Viola, her head resting upon Ephraim's shoulder, whispered: "Ephraim,
what do you think of him?"

"He is ill, I think..." said Ephraim, in a voice choked with sobs.

"What, you call THAT illness, Ephraim?" Viola cried; "if that's illness,
then a wild beast is ill too."

"Viola, for Heaven's sake, be quiet: he's our own father after all!"

"Ephraim!" said the girl, with a violent outburst of emotion, as she
again threw herself into her brother's arms... "just think if mother had
lived to see this!"

"Don't, don't, Viola, my sweet!" Ephraim exclaimed, sobbing convulsively.