 And a man who doesn't get
money, sir, can't accommodate. Now what can I do for you, sir?«
    If an amiable self-satisfaction is the mark of earthly bliss, Solomon in all
his glory was a pitiable mortal compared with Mr. Cohen - clearly one of those
persons who, being in excellent spirits about themselves, are willing to cheer
strangers by letting them know it. While he was delivering himself with lively
rapidity, he took the baby from his wife and holding it on his arm presented his
features to be explored by its small fists. Deronda, not in a cheerful mood, was
rashly pronouncing this Ezra Cohen to be the most unpoetic Jew he had ever met
with in books or life: his phraseology was as little as possible like that of
the Old Testament; and no shadow of a Suffering Race distinguished his vulgarity
of soul from that of a prosperous pink-and-white huckster of the purest English
lineage. It is naturally a Christian feeling that a Jew ought not to be
conceited. However, this was no reason for not persevering in his project, and
he answered at once in adventurous ignorance of technicalities -
    »I have a fine diamond ring to offer as security - not with me at this
moment, unfortunately, for I am not in the habit of wearing it. But I will come
again this evening and bring it with me. Fifty pounds at once would be a
convenience to me.«
    »Well, you know, this evening is the Sabbath, young gentleman,« said Cohen,
»and I go to the Shool. The shop will be closed. But accommodation is a work of
charity; if you can't get here before, and are any ways pressed - why, I'll look
at your diamond. You're perhaps from the West End - a longish drive?«
    »Yes; and your Sabbath begins early at this season. I could be here by five
- will that do?« Deronda had not been without hope that by asking to come on a
Friday evening he might get a better opportunity of observing points in the
family character, and might even be able to put some decisive question.
    Cohen assented; but here the marvellous Jacob, whose physique supported a
precocity that would have shattered a Gentile of his years, showed that he had
been listening with much comprehension by saying, »You are coming again. Have
you got any more knives at home?«
    »I think I have one,« said Deronda, smiling down at him.
    »Has it two blades
