The Prime Minister let out a sigh. His eyes closed behind their thick lenses, as if Hava’s question were the final straw. Ponderous, much too big for his chair, dominating the room without a word or even a gesture, his shirt hanging out over his carelessly buckled belt, his shoes spattered with mud, his face like a knotty whorl in the bark of a hoary olive tree, the weary old sea-turtle finally managed to reply, almost in a whisper, “That’s a hard one, Hava. And not only that. Everything seems hard nowadays. Not that I’m drawing analogies, but everybody seems to want to reach for a gun. Something’s gone wrong somewhere. Maybe our whole way of thinking had a fatal flaw hidden in it right from the start. But you mustn’t think I came here to burden you with my own problems. On the contrary, I wanted to cheer you up. And now, without meaning to, I’ve just rubbed salt in your wounds. All any of us can do these days, I guess, is to grit our teeth and plug away and keep on hoping. No, thank you, young beauty, no more tea for me. I can’t drink another drop, even though that first cup was heavenly. On the contrary, I have to be off at once. Actually, I was just passing by here on my way to the Upper Galilee. Tonight I’m sleeping in Tiberias, and tomorrow I’m supposed to have a look at the Syrian border and hear what all my clever generals have to say about the situation. And also listen to some of our good people who live up there and, so help me, do what I can to encourage them. The Devil alone knows with what. The truth is, I don’t know whom to believe any more and whom to trust. Everyone talks like a prophet and acts like a comedian. I’m not kidding when I say it’s just one big comedy wherever I go. Yolek, you joker, stop looking at me like that. The big genius. His own skin he saves and leaves me holding the bag. The Devil only knows what they’re cooking up for us in those palaces in Damascus, much less how we can keep from eating crow. My handsome generals have a unanimous one-word answer, and they serenade me with it all day long: Bang! And to tell the truth, when all the pros and cons are toted up, I tend to agree that it’s time we let them have it in the teeth even if Ben-Gurion—and perhaps you too behind my back—keeps telling everyone I’m a senile old man. Ah well! Thanks for the tea, Hava. God bless you all. And let’s hope we’ll be hearing good news soon. How old did you say the boy was?”