“But God never meant it to apply to a case like this!”

“We must obey God’s law,” said Reb Shemuel.

“Then it is the devil’s law!” shouted David, losing all control of himself.

The Reb’s face grew dark as night.  There was a moment of dread silence.

“Here you are, father,” said Hannah, returning with the wine and some glasses which she had carefully dusted.  Then she paused and gave a little cry, nearly losing her hold of the tray.

“What’s the matter?  What has happened?” she asked anxiously.

“Take away the wine—­we shall drink nobody’s health to-night,” cried David brutally.

“My God!” said Hannah, all the hue of happiness dying out of her cheeks.  She threw down the tray on the table and ran to her father’s arms.

“What is it!  Oh, what is it, father?” she cried.  “You haven’t had a quarrel?”

The old man was silent.  The girl looked appealingly from one to the other.

“No, it’s worse than that,” said David in cold, harsh tones.  “You remember your marriage in fun to Sam?”

“Yes.  Merciful heavens!  I guess it!  There was something not valid in the Gett after all.”

Her anguish at the thought of losing him was so apparent that he softened a little.

“No, not that,” he said more gently.  “But this blessed religion of ours reckons you a divorced woman, and so you can’t marry me because I’m a Cohen.”

“Can’t marry you because you’re a Cohen!” repeated Hannah, dazed in her turn.

“We must obey the Torah,” said Reb Shemuel again, in low, solemn tones.  “It is your friend Levine who has erred, not the Torah.”

“The Torah cannot visit a mere bit of fun so cruelly,” protested David.  “And on the innocent, too.”

“Sacred things should not be jested with,” said the old man in stern tones that yet quavered with sympathy and pity.  “On his head is the sin; on his head is the responsibility.”

“Father,” cried Hannah in piercing tones, “can nothing be done?”

The old man shook his head sadly.  The poor, pretty face was pallid with a pain too deep for tears.  The shock was too sudden, too terrible.  She sank helplessly into a chair.

“Something must be done, something shall be done,” thundered David.  “I will appeal to the Chief Rabbi.”

“And what can he do?  Can he go behind the Torah?” said Reb Shemuel pitifully.

“I won’t ask him to.  But if he has a grain of common sense he will see that our case is an exception, and cannot come under the Law.”

“The Law knows no exceptions,” said Reb Shemuel gently, quoting in Hebrew, “‘The Law of God is perfect, enlightening the eyes.’  Be patient, my dear children, in your affliction.  It is the will of God.  The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away—­bless ye the name of the Lord.”

“Not I!” said David harshly.  “But look to Hannah.  She has fainted.”