Then she found
her way to one of the orthodox Russian Jewish synagogues on
the west side. It was a dim, odorous, bare little place,
this house of worship. Fanny had never seen one like it
before. She was herded up in the gallery, where the women
sat. And when the patriarchal rabbi began to intone the
prayer for the dead Fanny threw the gallery into wild panic
by rising for it--a thing that no woman is allowed to do in
an orthodox Jewish church. She stood, calmly, though the
beshawled women to right and left of her yanked at her coat.
In January Fanny discovered New York. She went as selector
for her department. Hereafter Slosson would do only the
actual buying. Styles, prices, and materials would be
decided by her. Ella Monahan accompanied her, it being the
time for her monthly trip. Fanny openly envied her her
knowledge of New York's wholesale district. Ella offered to
help her.
"No," Fanny had replied, "I think not, thanks. You've your
own work. And besides I know pretty well what I want, and
where to go to get it.
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