“People come to New York to be free, but you have constructed a prison for yourself.” She sighed. “I loved your father, Gorham, but I’m glad I married my husband. And do you know how we’ve built up our marriage? Layer upon layer. Shared experience, children, loyalty. Layer upon layer. Until we have something of more value than anything I can imagine. And we’ve tried to pass that on to our children. That’s all parents can do—try to teach their children how to live. I don’t think you’re doing that by going to Boston.” She looked at her watch. “I have to go.”

“I guess I do, too.”

Sarah Adler stood up. “I’ve given you a lecture. Now I’ll give you a present. I know you like it. I gave it to your father once, now I’m giving it to you.” She handed him the Motherwell drawing. “Please go back to your family and have a good life, Gorham. That would make me very happy.” She gave him a quick smile. “I’ll let you pay for the breakfast.”

Then she was moving swiftly away.

He was just waiting for the check when an idea occurred to him. He hurried out of the dining room.

Sarah Adler was just about to step into a taxi on Park when he caught up with her.

“I want to give you something too.” He handed her the wampum belt. “My father would have wanted you to keep it—I know he would—but you can consider it a present from me.”

“Well, thank you.” She fixed her eyes on his. “Think about what I said.” Then, with a mischievous smile, she put it round her waist and tied it. “How do I look?”

“Adorable.”

“Well, then I guess I am.” She got into the taxi, and it moved away, as he turned back inside to pay the check.

“Where to?” the driver asked Sarah Adler, as the taxi started down Park.

“World Trade Center,” she replied.

Gorham sat for several minutes alone at their table. He pondered what to do. He glanced at his watch. If he was going to turn up for the meeting at the headhunter’s, he’d better get going. With the drawing under his arm, he went out onto Park, and moments later, he was being driven south.

It was an easy ride down FDR Drive. The taxi rounded the bulge of the Lower East Side by the Williamsburg Bridge. Manhattan Bridge came next, then the Brooklyn Bridge, and just after that, the South Street Seaport on the waterfront.

That was where he made his decision. As the taxi came onto South Street and made a right onto Whitehall, he took out his cellphone. He wouldn’t be going to the meeting.

He didn’t feel like going straight back to his office. He got out of the taxi and decided to call Maggie.