THE GOD OF VENGEANCE
dressed in dignified, orthodox fashion. Removes his hat and shakes the rain from it.
A fine business! It has to rain! (Suddenly noticing Rifkele, he explodes with rage.) What! You here! (Seizes her by the collar and shakes her, clinching his teeth.) What are you doing here?
Rifkele, terrified, stammering.
Mam. . . Mamma told me. . . to. . . c-call. . . (Bursting into tears.) Papa, don't hit me!
Yekel
Your mother. . . your mother sent you. . . here! (With a loud outcry.) Your mother! (Dragging her upstairs.) She'll lead you to ruin yet! Something draws her to it! . . . She wants her daughter to be what the mother was. . .
Rifkele, crying.
Papa, don't hit me!
Yekel
I'll teach you to mind your father! (Leads her out. Rifkele's crying is heard from without.)
Shloyme
There's a virtuous Yekel for you! It doesn't become his dignity for his daughter to be a brothel-woman. (Through the ceiling is heard a noise of angry stamping, and the weeping of a
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