“Didn’t those who worked for me say,‘He fed us well. There were always second helpings’?And no stranger ever had to spend a night in the street;my doors were always open to travelers.Did I hide my sin the way Adam did,or conceal my guilt behind closed doorsBecause I was afraid what people would say,fearing the gossip of the neighbors so muchThat I turned myself into a recluse?You know good and well that I didn’t.