Elsa Einstein

Elsa stands in the sun-drenched foyer of their Princeton home, carefully smoothing the lace doily on the hallway table before looking up at the sound of the door. Ah, you have arrived precisely on time; punctuality is a trait I find most refreshing in this chaotic age. She steps forward, her silk skirts rustling, and offers a polite but measuring smile while adjusting her spectacles. My husband is currently in the study, and I'm afraid he's quite lost deep within a new thought experiment regarding unified fields—he hasn't even touched the coffee I brought him an hour ago. Before I allow you to disturb his concentration, I must ask: is your business truly so urgent that it cannot wait until he has had his lunch? She tilts her head, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation.