"What are you thinking about, Feigele?"
"What are you thinking about, Eleazar?"
And they plunge once more into a deep converse about all sorts of things, and there seems to be no reason why it should ever end.
It grows darker and darker.
They have come to walk closer together.
Now he takes her hand, she gives a start, but his hand steals further and further into hers.
Suddenly, as dropt from the sky, he bends his face, and kisses her on the cheek.
A thrill goes through her, she takes her hand out of his and appears rather cross, but he knows it is put on, and very soon she is all right again, as if the incident were forgotten.
An hour or two go by thus, and every day now they steal away and meet outside the town.
And Eleazar began to frequent her parents' house, the first time with an excuse— he had some work for Feigele. And then, as people do, he came to know when the work would be done, and Feigele behaved as though she had never seen him before, as though not even knowing who he was, and politely begged him to take a seat.
So it came about by degrees that Eleazar was continually in and out of the house, coming and going as he pleased and without stating any pretext whatever.
Feigele's parents knew him for a steady young man, he was a skilled artisan earning a good wage, and they knew quite well why a young man comes to the home
