"Tell us about it; go on." He was breathing short, his limbs trembled a little.

It was as if some hungry beast of prey had scented a quarry.

Maria still refused, putting up her head, insisting that she had to be going.
"Let's have it," insisted the Jew.

"Take another drink." Maria took another swallow of the whiskey.

"Now, go on," repeated Zerkow; "let's have the story." Maria squared her elbows on the deal table, looking straight in front of her with eyes that saw nothing.
"Well, it was this way," she began.