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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Only at supper we talked about you. Isn't that so, Harriet?" He called into the darkened room. "I came to say good-by. And I thought we might walk to temple together. How's Mrs. Thalmann tonight?" The little rabbi shook his head darkly, and waved a dismal hand. But that was for Fanny alone. What he said was: "She's really splendid to-day. A little tired, perhaps; but what is that?"
"Yes," she lied, "a white one with crochet around the bottom. Quite grand." Mrs. Thalmann sank back on the pillow with a satisfied sigh. "A wonder." She shook her head. "What that girl wastes alone, when I am helpless here." Rabbi Thalmann came into the room, both feet booted now, and placed his slippers neatly, toes out, under the bed. "Ach, Harriet, the girl is all right. You imagine.
But Fanny remembered the ten-year viewpoint that the weary-wise old traveling man had spoken about. She took their offer. She was to go to Chicago almost at once, to begin work June first. Two conversations that took place before she left are perhaps worth recording. One was with Father Fitzpatrick of St. Ignatius Catholic Church. The other with Rabbi Emil Thalmann of Temple Emanu-el.
But the rabbi's wife shook her head. "Good-by." From the hall below Doctor Thalmann called to her. "Come, child, come!" Then, "Ach, the light in my study! I forgot to turn it out, Fanny, be so good, yes?" Fanny entered the bright little room, reached up to turn off the light, and paused a moment to glance about her.
Molly Brandeis seemed to sense what had happened. "But you didn't, did you?" she whispered softly. Fanny shook her head. Rabbi Thalmann was seated in his great carved chair. His eyes were closed. The wheezy little organ in the choir loft at the rear of the temple began the opening bars of Schumann's Traumerei.
Rabbi Thalmann was up in his study. Fanny ran lightly up the stairs. "Who is it, Emil? That Minna! Next Monday her week is up. She goes." "It's I, Mrs. Thalmann. Fanny Brandeis." "Na, Fanny! Now what do you think!" In the brightly-lighted doorway of his little study appeared Rabbi Thalmann, on one foot a comfortable old romeo, on the other a street shoe. He held out both hands.
"Emil!" from the darkened bedroom. "How can you say that? But how! What I have suffered to-day, only! Torture! And because I say nothing I'm not sick." "Go in," said Rabbi Thalmann. So Fanny went in to the woman lying, yellow-faced, on the pillows of the dim old-fashioned bedroom with its walnut furniture, and its red plush mantel drape. Mrs. Thalmann held out a hand.
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