“Charlie, I really … You caught me by surprise. I’m so flattered. Are you sure about this?” She smiled. “I think you’d better get up now, you’re collecting a crowd.” It was true. There were half a dozen people watching them now, some of them laughing. As he got up, she kissed him. “I’m really going to have to think about this.”

Rose Master was most surprised, two days later, when George the doorman called up to inform her, in a voice that suggested he was keeping the visitor outside on the sidewalk, that there was a person called Miss Adler who desired to see her.

“Send her up,” said Rose. She met Sarah at the door herself, and once they were in the living room, she was even more surprised when Sarah asked her if she might speak to her in confidence. “Of course you may,” she said guardedly, “if that is what you wish.”

“Has Charlie spoken to you about me?” the girl said.

“No.” He hadn’t.

“He wants to marry me.”

“Oh. I see.”

“So I came to ask what you think about it.”

“You came to ask me?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Rose stared at her. Then she nodded thoughtfully. “Well, dear, that’s very nice of you.” She paused. “You’re very clever.” She was sitting in an upright chair; Sarah was on the sofa. She glanced toward the window where the early-evening light from Park Avenue was casting a gentle glow.

“I’m sure you want me to be truthful.”

“Please.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea, though I can quite understand his being in love with you.”

“A Jewish girl with glasses?”

“Oh yes. You’re intelligent and attractive—I dare say he should have married someone like you in the first place. Of course, I’d have been horrified.” She shrugged. “Well, you said you wanted me to be truthful.”

“I do.”

“I just think it’s too late now. Do you like him?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking really hard. I love him.”

“Lucky Charlie. What do you like about him?”

“A lot of things. I think he’s the most interesting man I’ve ever met.”

“That’s only because he’s older, dear. Older men seem interesting, because they know things. But they may not be so interesting really.”

“Don’t you think he’s interesting? You’re his mother.”

Rose sighed. “I love my son, my dear, and I want the best for him. But I’m too old to hide from reality. Do you know the trouble with Charlie? He’s intelligent, he may even have talent, but he’s old money. Not that he has any, you understand. But he belongs to it. That’s my fault, I’m afraid.” She sighed again. “I mean, it always seemed so important.”

“It isn’t important now?”