Another disappointment. The tears, which had nearly stopped, started again. The sun, meanwhile, was flattening out at the bottom, and looked like a Bulgarian hat.

Rabbi Wolf-Kitzes brightened once more. “Do not despair. The one hundred loaves reminded me of the one hundred women! The heathen demands that of this number he be given one to use for his pleasure; otherwise the whole community shall be defiled. The ruling is that no woman may be surrendered—except that one who is already unclean, since that would do her little harm.”

Baggelman: “I do not understand. Are we to write down the names of fifty harlots?”

Nomberg: “No, no. The principle is, one may allow the defiled to be defiled. Thus we may hand over farmers to farm, or even those already dying—the aged, the critically ill—to die. I wholeheartedly support the interpretation of Rabbi Wolf-Kitzes!”

The light in the room was draining away like puddles. The last of the sun dropped beneath the line of rooftops. Everyone knew this was their last chance.

“And what is the opinion of the Most Pious?”

“A negative opinion,” announced the Descendant. “I am shamed even to think of women of that kind.”

“What says the rabbi of the Fur Trimmers?”

Kornischoner, with much difficulty, shook his head. “No.” His final word.

“Ah,” said Dorka Kleinweiss. “The vote is two to two.”

The dusk was now so thick that the Jews had to grope for the backs of their chairs. They sat in them, not noticing that the rabbi from Yambol was no longer unconscious but, on the contrary, sitting upright, rubbing his swollen eyes.

“What am I?” Lunt asked. “Living or dead?”

“Rabbi!” the Council members exclaimed. “Can we make the list or can’t we? Tell us! Break the tie!”

“Alas, living,” said the rabbi, whose back was humped.

“Speak! Tell us what to do!”

Lunt looked at the Judenrat. Impossible to tell whether or not he could really see them. He smiled. “Jews, you don’t know?”

“No! We can’t make a list and we can’t not make a list! Where is the logic in that?”

On that rabbi’s face there was a dreamy expression. “Look what they did to my sport coat. They ripped off the sleeve.”

Urinstein leaned forward. “Tell!”

Lunt did. “We have to kill each other and the last person alive has to kill himself. I saw that at once. That’s why I fainted.”

There was absolute silence. Not even the sound of breathing. The white plates on the table were the brightest objects in the darkened room. After some time Schpitalnik remarked, “It’s a good idea.”

“Hee, hee,” Popower tittered. “We could resign after all.”

Paradyz was actually laughing. “Ha! Ha! Like at Masada! We would be written up in history!”

The other ministers began laughing too. “I would like to see their faces! When they come into the room.”

“Yes! This will teach them a lesson!”

Suddenly, from five meters off, Gutfreind ran as hard as he could against the wall. “Look!” he cried. “I ran into it!”