"Can I give you light and heat?"

"The light and heat I love best, Nina."

"If I thought that--if I could really think that--I would be happy
still, and would mind nothing."

"And what is it you do mind?"

"There are things to trouble us, of course. When aunt Sophie says that
all of us have our troubles--even she--I suppose that even she speaks
the truth."

"Your aunt Sophie is a fool."

"I should not mind if she were only a fool. But a fool can sometimes be
right."

"And she has been scolding you because--you--prefer a Jew to a
Christian."

"No--not yet, Anton. She does not know it yet; but she must know it."

"Sit down, Nina." He was still holding her by the hand; and now, as he
spoke, he led her to a sofa which stood between the two windows. There
he seated her, and sat by her side, still holding her hand in his.
"Yes," he said, "she must know it of course--when the time comes; and
if she guesses it before, you must put up with her guesses. A few sharp
words from a foolish woman will not frighten you, I hope."