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Updated: June 29, 2025
Henry Elkman, she insisted, had not a true Jewish air. There was in the very cut of his clothes a subtle suggestion of going to the races. It was futile of Fanny to insist that Henry had never gone to the races, that his duties as bookkeeper of S. Cohn's Clothing Emporium prevented him from going to the races, and that the cut of his clothes was intended to give tone to his own establishment.
The cumbrous sack was hoisted into the cab. Natalya sprang in beside it, and in a resolute voice bade the driver draw up for a moment at the Elkman home. The unwonted phenomenon of a cab brought Becky to the door ere her grandmother could jump out. She was still under ten, but prematurely developed in body as in mind.
To the old clo'-woman's crude mind, Henry Elkman existed as a monster of ready-made wickedness, and she believed even that he had been married in church and baptized, despite that her informant tried to console her with the assurance that the knot had been tied in a Registrar's office. 'May he be cursed with the boils of Pharaoh! she cried in her picturesque jargon.
In the bearing of her first child the second Mrs. Elkman died. The rosy face became a white angelic mask, the dainty figure lay in statuesque severity, and a screaming, bald-headed atom of humanity was the compensation for this silence. Henry Elkman was overwhelmed by grief and superstition. 'For three things women die in childbirth, kept humming in his brain from his ancient Hebrew lore.
She had sunk to a sort of third cousin, or a mother-in-law twice removed. The days went on, and again the Elkman household occupied the gossips, and news of it second-hand, like everything that came to her was picked up by Natalya on her rounds. Henry's third wife was, it transpired, a melancholy failure.
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