He heard again from the farther depths of the dark interior the musical monotone of a rabbi reciting a ritual.

The voice was young and low.

Presently he heard the responses spoken in a woman's voice, so tender, so soft and so sad that he sensed instantly the meaning of the sympathy in the young priest's voice.

Out of the incense-laden dusk he found old custom stealing back upon him.

His lips anticipated words unreadily; gladly he realized that he could say these formulas, also; he had not forgotten; he had not forgotten! In this little synagogue in a poor town there were no privacies; communicants had to depend on the courtesy of their fellows for uninterrupted devotion.