do, and to dispute with his brother and sister about religious piety was not worth his while.
So Moishehle departed, and Gittel wept, wondering why he was different from the other children, seeing they all had the same mother, and she had lived and suffered for all alike. Why would he not stay with her at home? What. would he have wanted for there? God be praised, not to sin with her tongue, thanks to God first, and then to him (a lightsome paradise be his!), they were provided for, with a house and a few thousand rubles, all that was necessary for their comfort, and a little ready money besides. The house alone, not to sin with her tongue, would bring in enough to make a living. Other people envy us, but it doesn't happen to please him, and he goes wandering about the world—without a wife and without a home—a man twenty and odd years old, and without a home!
The rest of the family were secretly well content to be free of such a poor creature—"the further off, the better—the shame is less."
A letter from him came very seldom after this, and for the last two years he had dropped out altogether. Nobody was surprised, for everyone was convinced that Moisheh would never come to anything. Some told that he was in prison, others knew that he had gone abroad and was being pursued, others, that he had hung himself because he was tired of life, and that before his death he had repented of all his sins, only it was too late.
His relations heard all these reports, and were careful to keep them from his mother, because they were not sure that the bad news was true.
