Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

YESTERDAY NEVER RETURNS 177

sentence she had started. "Every week he brings money for my household. I bought some linoleum for the floor and some furniture. You must come next week, then vou can see it for yourself."

"Sol must be content now, having his own business," said Mother.

Duplikate looked at her with those dumb eyes of hers and replied slowly, "Content? Sol content in his shop? He was only content those first weeks when he ran along the trains in his white jacket. But now he is already saying that he wants to move out of the shop in Weesper Street as soon as he can."

"Well, what does he want then?" asked Mother.

"He has told me, but I don't understand what he means," Duplikate said humbly.

Her son's intentions were however not so inscrutable. One evening when he came to call, he told us quite candidly what he thought about his shop and what he intended to do. "A shop is a good thing to start with, but if you want to be really rich you must not stay in a shop."

"Why not be content with what you have. Thousands of people are jealous of what you earn. Why should you want to become rich?"

"Because I don't want to be poor. I know what poverty is, I know it better than anybody in the world. I want money, and plenty of it. Heaps of it!"

Sol was caught by the power of his own imagination. As if he saw in a vision a mountain of solid gold coins. "Money, so much money that I, that I will...that I will never have to steal bread again. There, now you know why I want it."