class="speaker">VERA [Smiling]

Oh, dear! And I suppose they both play the violin.

KATHLEEN

Ye're wrong again. One plays the piano—ounly the young ginthleman plays the fiddle—Mr. David!

VERA [Eagerly]

Ah, Mr. David—that's the one I want to see.

KATHLEEN

He's out.

[She abruptly shuts the door.]

VERA [Stopping its closing]

Don't shut the door!

KATHLEEN [Snappily]

More chanst of seeing him out there than in here!

VERA

But I want to leave a message.

KATHLEEN

Then why don't ye come inside? It's freezin' me to the bone.

[She sneezes.]

Atchoo!

VERA

I'm sorry.

[She comes in and closes the door]

Will you please say Miss Revendal called from the Settlement, and we are anxiously awaiting his answer to the letter asking him to play for us on——

KATHLEEN

What way will I be tellin' him all that? I'm not here.

VERA

Eh?

KATHLEEN

I'm lavin'—just as soon as I've me thrunk packed.

VERA

Then I must write the message—can I write at this desk?

KATHLEEN

If the ould woman don't come in and shpy you.

VERA

What old woman?

KATHLEEN

Ould Mr. Quixano's mother—she wears a black wig, she's that houly.

VERA [Bewildered]

What?... But why should she mind my writing?

KATHLEEN

Look at the clock.

[Vera looks at the clock, more puzzled than ever.]

If ye're not quick, it'll be Shabbos.

VERA

Be what?

KATHLEEN [Holds up hands of horror]

Ye don't know what Shabbos is! A Jewess not know her own Sunday!

VERA [Outraged]

I, a Jewess! How dare you?

KATHLEEN [Flustered]

Axin' your pardon, miss, but ye looked a bit furrin and I——

VERA [Frozen]

I am a Russian.

[Slowly and dazedly]

Do I understand that Mr. Quixano is a Jew?

KATHLEEN

Two Jews, miss. Both of 'em.

VERA

Oh, but it is impossible.

[Dazedly to herself]

He had such charming manners.

[Aloud again]

You seem to think everybody Jewish. Are you sure Mr. Quixano is not Spanish?—the name sounds Spanish.

KATHLEEN

Shpanish!

[She picks up the old Hebrew book on the armchair.]

Look at the ould lady's book. Is that Shpanish?

[She points to the Mizrach.]

And that houly picture the ould lady says her pater-noster to! Is that Shpanish? And that houly table-cloth with the houly silver candle——

[Cry of sudden astonishment]

Why, I've ounly put——

[She looks toward mantel and utters a great cry of alarm as she drops the Hebrew book on the floor.]

Why, where's the other candleshtick! Mother in hivin, they'll say I shtole the candleshtick!

[Perceiving that Vera is dazedly moving toward door]

Beggin' your pardon, miss——

[She is about to move a chair toward the desk.]

VERA

Thank you, I've changed my mind.

KATHLEEN

That's more than I'll do.

VERA [Hand on door]

Don't say I called at all.

KATHLEEN

Plaze yerself. What name did ye say?

[Mendel enters hastily from his bedroom, completely transmogrified, minus the skull-cap, with a Prince Albert coat, and boots instead of slippers, so that his appearance is gentlemanly. Kathleen begins to search quietly and unostentatiously in the table-drawers, the chiffonier, etc., etc., for the candlestick.

MENDEL

I am sorry if I have kept you waiting——

[He rubs his hands importantly.]

You see I have so many pupils already. Won't you sit down?

[He indicates a chair.]

VERA [Flushing, embarrassed, releasing her hold of the door handle]

Thank you—I—I—I didn't come about pianoforte lessons.

MENDEL [Sighing in disappointment]

Ach!

VERA

In fact I—er—it wasn't you I wanted at all—I was just going.

MENDEL [Politely]

Perhaps I can direct you to the house you are looking for.

VERA

Thank you, I won't trouble you.

[She turns toward the door again.]

MENDEL

Allow me!

[He opens the door for her.]

VERA [Hesitating, struck by his manners, struggling with her anti-Jewish prejudice]

It—it—was your son I wanted.

MENDEL [His face lighting up]

You mean my nephew, David. Yes, he gives violin lessons.

[He closes the door.]

VERA

Oh, is he your nephew?

MENDEL

I am sorry he is out—he, too, has so many pupils, though at the moment he is only at the Crippled Children's Home—playing to them.

VERA

How lovely of him!

[Touched and deciding to conquer her prejudice]

But that's just what I came about—I mean we'd like him to play again at our Settlement. Please ask him why he hasn't answered Miss Andrews's letter.

MENDEL [Astonished]

He hasn't answered your letter?

VERA

Oh, I'm not Miss Andrews; I'm only her assistant.

MENDEL

I see—Kathleen, whatever are you doing under the table?

[Kathleen, in her hunting around for the candlestick, is now