Manhattan's East Side ghetto lay dank and dismal beneath a late autumn drizzle. In one narrow street, before a certain house, thousands of Jews milled about on the wet flagging and cobblestones, packing the whole block with their numbers. Grief was on their faces and in the low wailing that some set up as they waited. In the middle of the block stood a hearse.
Out of the house so intently watched by the throng came some rabbis, slowly bearing a coffin. The thousands in the street set up a louder cry and...
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