Her English words rarely went beyond two syllables.
"Ah!" said Sugarman.

"But I've come to give you back your corkscrew." "Why, it's broken," said Mrs.Hyams, as she took it.
"So it is, marm," he admitted readily.

"But if you taink dat I ought to pay for de damage you're mistaken.

If you lend me your cat"-- here he began to make the argumentative movement with his thumb, as though scooping out imaginary _kosher_ cheese with it; "If you lend me your cat to kill my rat," his tones took on the strange Talmudic singsong--"and my rat instead kills your cat, then it is the fault of your cat and not the fault of my rat." Poor Mrs.Hyams could not meet this argument.

If Mendel had been at home, he might have found a counter-analogy.