The procession walks across this empty square to the gallows. Now the prisoners to be hanged appear.

The rabbi and the priest stop before a German officer. The rabbi starts to make a speech. He says that the prisoners are innocent. He says that they must not be killed merely because they are Jews.

‘HA!’

The single burlesque of a laugh flew like a star through the black theatre air. It came from behind Mr Newman and away to the right. Heads turned. In the third row up front a man stood up with his back to the screen. Mr Newman could not see his face, but he seemed to scan the theatre. Then he sat down.

‘What’re you lookin’ for, Ikey?’

Mr Newman would not turn his head. All around him people were turning to see. Some sat frozen, watching the screen.

The priest in the picture leaps onto the platform of the gallows. A great confusion is starting among the German soliders who are trying to climb up and bring the priest down.

The priest shouts that it is not Christian to murder these people and that Christian men dare not have any hand in it. The soliders are dragging him off the platform now …. He is trying to make his words heard … The old rabbi is collapsing with blood rushing out of his mouth …

Two ushers were walking up and down the aisles watching the audience. They kept patrolling leisurely. Mr Newman no longer saw the screen. The shifting was massive now, a gathering of breath was taking place around him.

His fists relaxed as great flags veered onto the screen -American, British, Russian, and others. A band was playing. ‘THE END’ swallowed up the screen and then faded away.

‘W B’ in color broke out. The cartoon.

The audience laughed, mumbled to itself.

The familiar little pig on the screen is walking through a forest with a very heavy rifle. A rabbit follows right behind him .on a scooter.

Mr Newman’s mind surrendered to the gay and childlike colors of the picture. After a while he glanced at Gertrude. She was still sitting there clutching her coat together near the neck.

The screen seemed to tear open and the chubby face of the little pig stuck through, and with his little paw describing a gesture of farewell he stuttered hilariously, ‘D-da, d-da, d-da, d-dat’s all, Folks!’

And with a chuckle he was gone.

Mr Newman felt a pressure on his leg as Gertrude got up. He glanced quickly at her as she rose, and got to his feet hurriedly. They gained the aisle and he kept pace with her as she strode toward the exit doors.

The marquee lights were out now. Only a vague spray of light from the lobby kept the night away from the sidewalk before the theatre. An old man with a hunched back was standing on the curb with a bundle of papers under his arm. Newman recognized him from the evening of the meeting at the hall. He still had on the Panama hat, but now in his left hand, displayed for the people leaving the theatre, was a paper titled The Brooklyn Tablet. A few yards away from him on the curb five boys and an old man were standing together, facing the empty lobby.