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They'll take it from you, all right, but they'll look upon you as a dog, just the same. . . And at the synagogue you'll have the back seat, and they'll never call you up to the altar, to read from the Holy Book.

Do you really believe that they're any better than you? You don't need their favors! . . . That's the way of the world these days: if you've got the money, even so pious a Jew as Reb Ali comes to your home, — a Pietist, mind you, — and accepts handsome alms from you. He asks no questions, — whether you got it by theft or by murder. So long as you have the cash. That's the chief point!

Don't climb too high, Sarah. Do you hear? Not too high. . . For if you do, some fine day you'll fall and break your neck. (Shakes a warning finger at her.) And don't try to break into the upper crust. Don't, I tell you. You've a home of your own, — stay there. You've got bread, — eat. But don't intrude where you're not wanted. . . Every dog must know his own kennel. (Leaving the table, with a gesture of apprehension.) The whole business is beginning to