He said I could make, oh, so much!"
Gregorio scowled savagely. "The filthy Jew! he said that? Never, never,
never!"
"But we must get some money," the woman sobbed, "if only for our son's
sake, Gregorio. But not that way?"
"No, not that way," he replied, savagely.
"When shall you go to him?"
"Now."
And taking up his hat he rushed into the street. He was terribly angry,
not so much at the purport of the Jew's speech as at the man who made
it. He loathed the Jews, and felt insulted when spoken to by one; it was
a terrible matter to ask this man for help, but it was intolerable that
his wife should suffer insult. And yet the child must be fed. Yes, she
had said that, and it was true. They must make sacrifices for the child.
He soon reached the Jew's house, and was shown by a richly clad servant
into the room where Amos sat. Amos was an old man, tall and strong, with
a long bushy beard, in which his fingers continually played; and his
eyes were sharp and brilliant and restless, a strange contrast to his
stately bearing and measured movements. He rose from his cushions as
Gregorio entered, and saluted him courteously, motioning him to a seat.
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