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Updated: May 20, 2025
Such charities as brightened and warmed the Ghetto Moses usually came in for. Bread, meat and coal tickets, god-sends from the Society for Restoring the Soul, made odd days memorable. Blankets were not so easy to get as in the days of poor Gittel's confinements.
In his miserable attic off Hester Street that recalled the attic he had found her in, though it was many stories nearer the sky he warmed himself with Gittel's image, smiling, light-darting, voluptuous. Night and sleep surrendered him to grotesque combinations Gittel Goldstein smoking cigarettes in a bath-room, Yvonne Rupert playing Yiddish heroines in a little chapel.
Never would let her children earn money like other people's children. But thou oughtest not to be so obstinate. Thou shouldst have more sense, Méshe; thou belongest not to my family. Why can't Solomon go out with matches?" "Gittel's soul would not like it." "But the living have bodies! Thou rather seest thy children starve than work.
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