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Listen to me, Rebbi. Take your Holy Scroll along with you. I don't need it any more.

What are you talking about? What has possessed you? Have you gone stark mad?

My daughter has gone to a brothel. The Scroll has been desecrated. God has punished me.

What are you raving about?

I am a woeful sinner. I know it well. He should have broken my feet beneath me, — or taken away my life in its prime. But what did He want of my daughter? My poor, blameless daughter?

Hear me. You mustn't talk like that against the Lord.

And why not ? I may speak everything. It's the truth. Yes, I am Yekel Tchaftchovitch, all right. The "Uncle" of a brothel. But the truth I may speak even to God. I'm afraid no longer. I went into the House of Study to you.