"It is the last, Amaryllis says," she observed. "And siege is laid."
John looked ruefully at the fruit.
"Perhaps," he said after thought, "were I a thrifty man and a spiteful
one, I would not eat them. Instead, I should have the same cluster
served me every morning that I might say to mine enemies, with truth,
that I have Cretan grapes for breakfast daily. They will keep," he
added presently, "for it is tradition that stores laid up for siege
never decay."
"Obviously," said the woman, "they do not last long enough."
John plucked off one of the light green grapes and ate it with relish.
"Since thou doubtest the tradition, I shall not have these spoil."
"But you destroy even a better boast over your enemy. Then you could
say to him, 'We can not consume all our food. Behold the grapes rot in
the lofts!'"
John smiled.
"Half of the lies go to preserve another's opinion of us. How much we
respect our fellows!"
"Be comforted; there are as many lying for our sakes! But how goes it
without on the walls?"
"Against Rome or against Simon?"
"Both."
"Ill enough. But when Titus presses too close Simon will lay down his
hostility toward me; and when Titus becomes too effective, we are to
have a divine interference, so our prophets say."
"I observe," the woman said, "we Jews at this time are relying much on
the prophets to fight our battles.
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