What was it about this woman that unnerved him? Was it her pride in her job? Her unfamiliarity with the obvious? The hunger to do, to accomplish, outside of her home?
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L
uzer Brandwein looked carefully at the sign. Mishpachas Spira, it said, gold on wood. There was nothing wrong with it, but also nothing special. Somehow he’d expected The Ilui’s door to have an aura to it.
It only took one knock, then Pinchas was hugging him, ushering him inside. He stole a quick glance at the living room. Proper upholstered couches, dark dining room set, cream-colored tapestry tablecloth. The off-white color, maybe it was a little off? The Ruv always had white. He filed away the detail to consider later and followed Pinchas to the study.
The study wasn’t too big, but then again this apartment was only temporary. Pinchas was just starting his climb. Bigger and better things were waiting.
“Pinchas, Pinchas, such a zchis to see you!” he said, after making a brachah. The rugelach were good, but the confectioner’s sugar on top was unnecessary. The Rebbetzin had never done that. “How are things?”
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