Is that your story?
It is indeed short enough, and I marvel at the many words in which you have put so little!" She laughed in a hard tone.

But Israel Kafka's eyes grew dark and the sombre fire beamed in them as he spoke again.

The weary, tortured smile left his wan lips, and his pale face grew stern.
"Laugh, laugh, Unorna!" he cried.

"You do not laugh alone.

And yet--I love you still, I love you so well in spite of all that I cannot laugh at you as I would, even though I were to see you again clinging to the rock and imploring it to take pity on your thirst.