Once it happened that Peter entered the house at a moment when we
were all so much absorbed in our Yiddish conversation that we did
not notice his presence. He sat down quietly among us and took part
in our talk, smiling in his usual manner. He asked us some
questions, and we answered him. Then we asked him something, and he
answered us in pure, good Yiddish, as if there were nothing new or
surprising about it. At last Marusya awoke, and exclaimed with glad
surprise: "Papa, can you speak Yiddish too?" We all shuddered, as
if caught stealing. Peter's smile broadened, covering the whole of
his face.

"Did you imagine that I do not know it? I wish you could speak it
as well as I do."

That made me suspect that Peter might have been himself a convert
from Judaism, and I decided to ask Anna bout it. She cleared up my
doubts very soon. She told me that Peter had been brought up in an
exclusively Jewish town; he had been employed there as a clerk in
the Town Hall. As he always had to deal with jews, he finally
learned their language. She told me at the same time that Peter
rather liked Jews, and that he was a man of more than ordinary
ability; otherwise, she said, it would have been very foolish on her
part to leave the religion of her father for the sake of Peter.

"What did you say was the name of your native town?" I asked out of
sheer curiosity. She named my native town. I felt a shiver go
through me. "And what was your father's name?" I asked again,
trembling.

"Bendet."