“Enough,” said Ellen, tipping the mouth of the bottle up. “Don’t fill the glass all the way.”

“Sorry,” said Brody, and he filled Meadows’ glass next.

When he had finished pouring the wine, Brody sat down. He looked at the soup in front of him. Then he glanced furtively around the table and saw that the others were actually eating it: it wasn’t a joke. So he took a spoonful. It was cold, and it didn’t taste anything like soup, but it wasn’t bad.

“I love gazpacho,” said Daisy, “but it’s such a pain to make that I don’t have it very often.”

“Mmmm,” said Brody, spooning another mouthful of soup.

“Do you have it very often?”

“No,” he said. “Not too often.”

“Have you ever tried a G and G?”

“Can’t say as I have.”

“You ought to try one. Of course, you might not enjoy it since it’s breaking the law.”

“You mean eating this thing is breaking the law? How? What is it?”

“Grass and gazpacho. Instead of herbs, you sprinkle a little grass over the top. Then you smoke a little, eat a little, smoke a little, eat a little. It’s really wild.”

It was a moment before Brody realized what she was saying, and even when he understood, he didn’t answer right away. He tipped his soup bowl toward himself, scooped out the last little bit of soup, drained his wine glass in one draft, and wiped his mouth with his napkin. He looked at Daisy, who was smiling sweetly at him, and at Ellen, who was smiling at something Hooper was saying.

“It really is,” said Daisy.

Brody decided to be low-keyed—avuncular and nonetheless annoyed, but low-keyed, so as not to upset Ellen. “You know,” he said, “I don’t find …”

“I bet Matt’s tried one.”

“Maybe he has. I don’t see what that …”

Daisy raised her voice and said, “Matt, excuse me.” The conversation at the other end of the table stopped. “I was just curious. Have you ever tried a G and G? By the way, Mrs. Brody, this is terrific gazpacho.”

“Thank you,” said Ellen. “But what’s a G and G?”

“I tried one once,” said Hooper. “But I was never really into that.”

“You must tell me,” Ellen said. “What is it?”

“Matt’ll tell you,” said Daisy, and just as Brody turned to say something to her, she leaned over to Meadows and said, “Tell me more about the water table.”

Brody stood up and began to clear away the soup bowls. As he walked into the kitchen, he felt a slight rush of nausea and dizziness, and his forehead was sweating. But by the time he put the bowls into the sink, the feeling had passed.

Ellen followed him into the kitchen and tied an apron around her waist. “I’ll need some help carving,” she said.

“Okeydoke,” said Brody, and he searched through a drawer for a carving knife and fork. “What did you think of that?”

“Of what?”