During the silence, the Jew looked restlessly about the room, asif to assure himself that there were no appearances of Sikeshaving covertly returned.  Apparently satisfied with hisinspection, he coughed twice or thrice, and made as many effortsto open a conversation; but the girl heeded him no more than ifhe had been made of stone.  At length he made another attempt;and rubbing his hands together, said, in his most concilitorytone,

　　'And where should you think Bill was now, my dear?'

　　The girl moaned out some half intelligible reply, that she couldnot tell; and seemed, from the smothered noise that escaped her,to be crying.

　　'And the boy, too,' said the Jew, straining his eyes to catch aglimpse of her face.  'Poor leetle child!  Left in a ditch,Nance; only think!'

　　'The child,' said the girl, suddenly looking up, 'is better wherehe is, than among us; and if no harm comes to Bill from it, Ihope he lies dead in the ditch and that his young bones may rotthere.'

　　'What!' cried the Jew, in amazement.

　　'Ay, I do,' returned the girl, meeting his gaze.  'I shall beglad to have him away from my eyes, and to know that the worst isover.  I can't bear to have him about me.  The sight of him turnsme against myself, and all of you.'

　　'Pooh!' said the Jew, scornfully.  'You're drunk.'

　　'Am I?' cried the girl bitterly.  'It's no fault of yours, if Iam not!  You'd never have me anything else, if you had your will,except now;--the humour doesn't suit you, doesn't it?'

　　'No!' rejoined the Jew, furiously.  'It does not.'

　　'Change it, then!' responded the girl, with a laugh.