continued the Rabbi Eliezer, “Judah ben Simon accidentally encountered Jeremiah Vinograd once again. Preoccupied by the conversation he had just had with Rachel Anna, the young man would never have noticed the mountebank, had he not spotted his brilliant scarlet turban gleaming on top of a dry, sandy rise, beside the north-south road. Judah turned and climbed the barren hill until he stood directly above the herbalist, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground. Jeremiah Vinograd remained staring straight ahead, lost in a deep trance. His back was perfectly straight, motionless; his hands rested quietly in his lap. All his energy seemed concentrated in his skinny toes, which were sticking out from the hem of his brown velvet robe and wriggling spasmodically in the dirt. “Listen,” hissed Judah ben Simon. “I could not persuade my wife to come with me, no matter how many times I told her what you said. I could understand her reluctance to go. She has been ill lately, plagued with insomnia, constantly exhausted; but still, her stubbornness so enraged me that I left our house in a fury.
