As the ritual of the Seder went on through the evening, Charlie was not only moved but impressed. Dr. Adler’s face, so warm and fatherly, might have been that of any man sharing a meal with his grandchildren. Yet under it all was a passion, an intensity that Charlie could only admire. These people had respect: for tradition, for education, for the things of the spirit.

Were such things to be found among the Gentiles? Certainly, in the families of professors, schoolteachers and the clergy, but not with this intensity. Sarah’s family belonged to a community which was conscious of roots going back three thousand years and believing, at least, that they had received the divine fire from the hand of God Himself.

Late that night, as he left to drive back to Manhattan, he parted from Sarah and her family, moved with a new respect and admiration.

Of course, he asked Sarah about the doctor pretty soon.

“Adele Cohen’s grandson? He’s a very nice person, just not my type. But I let my family think I might be interested. It keeps them happy.” She gave him an amused look. “I suppose I’d have to marry him if he was my type. He’s everything a nice Jewish girl could want.”

Charlie wasn’t sure what he thought about that. Thinking about it afterward, and feeling a pang of jealousy, he told himself not to be foolish. At some point, this girl would have to settle down with a proper young man of her own kind. But not yet. Not for a long time yet. Until then, he wanted her, very much, for his own.

The aftermath of the Seder had some other consequences as well. He began to ask Sarah questions. Some were quite simple. “Why do you say synagogue, but most Jews I know say temple?”

“It pretty much depends what kind of Jew you are,” she explained. “The real Temple, the Temple in Jerusalem, was destroyed nearly two thousand years ago. Orthodox and Conservative Jews believe that one day it will be rebuilt. This will be the Third Temple. But the Reform movement says that we should not be waiting for the Temple to be rebuilt, and so they call their synagogues temples. So there are all kinds of names for synagogues in the diaspora. Orthodox Jews often call it ‘shut,’ which is a Yiddish word. My family usually says synagogue. The Reform Jews usually say temple.”

Other questions were more searching. What did Sarah feel about her duties as a Jew? How did she want to live? Did she truly believe in God? He discovered that she was surprisingly torn.

“God? Who can know about God, Charlie? No one can be sure. As for the rest, I break a lot of rules. Look what I’m doing with you.” She shrugged. “I suppose the truth is, I’m secular during the week, and I go home to my tradition at the weekend. I have no idea how that’s going to work out in the long run.”