Explore "The Hirelings" by Israel Zangwill on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Crowded as was the steamer with cultured Americans invading Europe, few knew that Rozenoffski was on board, or even that Rozenoffski was a pianist. The name, casually seen on the passengers' list, conveyed nothing but a strong Russian and a vaguer Semitic flavour, and the mere outward man, despite a leonine head, was of insignificant port and somewhat shuffling gait, and drew scarcely a second glance.
He would not have had it otherwise, he told himself, as he paced the almost deserted deck after dinner -- it was a blessing to escape from the perpetual adulation of music-sick matrons and schoolgirls -- but every wounded fibre in him was yearning for consolation after his American failure.