"...During the second week of term, she bought a used bicycle and road around tacking up posterd that said WANTED: HEBREW TUTOR, because languages came easily to her, and she wanted to be able to understand my father. A few people applied, but only one didn't back out when my mother explained that she couldn't pay, a pimply boy named Nahemia from Haifa who was on his first year and as miserable as my mother, and who felt -according to a letter she wrote to my father- the company of a girl was reason enough to agree to meet twice a week at the King's Arms for nothing more than the price of his beer..."
Nicole Krauss. The History of Love.
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