"
Theodore pondered a moment. "Then here each one of us is
responsible. Is that it?"
"I suppose so."
"But look here. I've been here ten weeks, and I've met your
friends, and not one of them is a Jew. How's that?"
Fanny flushed a little. "Oh, it just worked out that way."
Theodore looked at her hard. "You mean you worked it out
that way?"
"Yes."
"Fan, we're a couple of weaklings, both of us, to have
sprung from a mother like ours. I don't know which is
worse; my selfishness, or yours." Then, at the hurt that
showed in her face, he was all contrition. "Forgive me,
Sis. You've been so wonderful to me, and to Mizzi, and to
all of us. I'm a good-for-nothing fiddler, that's all.
You're the strong one."
Fenger had telephoned her on Saturday. He and his wife were
at their place in the country. Fanny was to take the train
out there Sunday morning. She looked forward to it with a
certain relief. The weather had turned unseasonably warm,
as Chicago Octobers sometimes do. Up to the last moment she
had tried to shake Theodore's determination to take Mizzi
and Otti with him.
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