Jacob looked up into his face scanningly for a moment or two, and apparently arriving at his conclusions, said gravely—
"I'll shwop," handing the cork-screw knife to Deronda, who pocketed it with corresponding gravity.
Immediately the small son of Shem ran off into the next room, whence his voice was heard in rapid chat; and then ran back again—when, seeing his father enter, he seized a little velveteen hat which lay on a chair and put it on to approach him. Cohen kept on his own hat, and took no notice of the visitor, but stood still while the two children went up to him and clasped his knees: then he laid his hands on each in turn and uttered his Hebrew benediction; whereupon the wife who had lately taken baby from the cradle brought it up to her husband and held it under his outstretched hands, to be blessed in its sleep. For the moment Deronda thought that this pawnbroker proud of his vocation was not utterly prosaic.
"Well, sir, you found your welcome in my family, I think," said Cohen, putting down his hat, and becoming his former self. "And you've been punctual. Nothing like a little stress here," he added, tapping his side pocket, as he sat down.
