Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

8 Kerry Greenwood
Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed
with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the
same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by
the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us,
do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison
us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, do we not revenge?’
Except they had not revenged. Nowhere had the Jews, driven
like cattle and slaughtered like them, fought back against their
oppressors; and Phryne caught her lip, wondering what commandment
she was outraging by wishing for just a little rebellion,
just one uprising, since the brave Queen Esther had told
the Persian King that she was a Jewess, and the Jews had hanged
Haman and his sons on the gallows they had thoughtfully built
for the Semites—which was the feast ever after of Purim.
Of course, that did explain why neither Abrahams was available.
It was Saturday, which was Shabbes, the Sabbath, and they
could not talk on the telephone during Shabbes—that would be
work. Presumably.
Phryne finished her glass of rather good French champagne
and slid down into her dark green sheets. The wind was tormenting
the tree outside her window, lashing the branches against
the house. It was a restless, uncomfortable sound, and she could
not concentrate. She laid the book aside, put out her lamp and
closed her eyes, but the constant scratching at the glass irritated
her so that she sat up, meaning to find another book or perhaps
dress and go out to a certain nightclub which might yield her
some interesting company. Her own house seemed silent as
Phryne swung her feet to the floor, her silky nightdress sliding
off one pale shoulder.
Something attracted her gaze to the window, and she saw two
bright points, like eyes. She was so surprised that she sat quite
still for perhaps ten seconds. Then she rose and moved towards
the window and the little lights. She had almost reached the
casement when a shrill howling broke out downstairs. Phryne
was distracted, and when she looked again whatever it was had
gone, if it had ever been there.