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Updated: May 27, 2025
And Lotte Rabinowich is still, looking at her with a deep wonder, shaking her head, unappeased in her search. She turns at last to her boy: relieved. "Come Herbert, now. Now we really got to go." She takes his hand that he lets limply rise. She pulls him gently. "Good night, dear ones. Do come, some time, Esther yes?" "Thank you, Mrs. Rabinowich." Meyer says: "Let the boy come when he wants.
Her lips moved: they knew not what to say. "How are you, Esther?" "Oh, I am well, Mrs. Rabinowich. Thank you." A voice resonant and deep, a voice mellowed by long keeping in the breast of a woman. "Why don't you come round, some time, Esther? You know, I should always be so glad to see you." "Thank you, Mrs. Rabinowich." "You know we're just next door," the older woman smiled.
"We are so glad when your Herbert comes to play with Florchen." Mrs. Rabinowich turns the love of her face upon the children who do not attend her. A grey long face, bitterly pock-marked, in a glow of love. "Look what your Herbert brought her," Meyer sews and smiles. "A toy. He shouldn't, now. Such a thing costs money." Mrs. Rabinowich puts an anxious finger to her lips. "Don't," she whispers.
Why must I work so long, heap the hard wither of so many hours upon my child who can not sleep till I do, in order that all of us may be unhappy? The clang and the door open. The mother of the boy. "Oh, here you are! Excuse me, friends. I was worrying over Herbert. Well, how goes it?" She smiled and stepped into the room: saw them all. "All well, Mrs. Rabinowich," said Meyer.
I am all warm and full of love for Herbert Rabinowich: perhaps some day I can show him, or do something for his father. Now there was no way but to go on working, and smile so the pins in his mouth did not prick. The eyes of Esther drew a line from these two children back to the birth of the one that was hers.
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