He got out of his cab at her building, and she came outside. He opened the door for her.

“Can we walk for a little bit?” she asked.

“Sure,” Peter replied. He paid the driver and got out. She slipped her hand into his, and he put both in his coat pocket. They walked up Park Avenue in silence for a couple of minutes.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” she said.

“All right.”

“No one else knows, and you have to keep it a secret.”

“Of course.”

Hattie took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m pregnant.”

Peter stopped and turned to face her. “But we haven’t . . .” He stopped, his mind reeling.

“It was someone I went out with before I met you,” she said. “It only happened once.”

Peter thought about that. “I want to help,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ve already decided to have an abortion, and I won’t brook any arguments about it. If you find that unconscionable, I’ll understand, and you can go your own way.”

“I want to help,” he said again. “Does the guy know?”

“No,” she said, “and he’s never going to.”

“Good,” Peter said.

“I’ve looked this up on the Internet, and I’ve found a clinic up on First Avenue in the Nineties.”

“What kind of clinic?”

“Licensed, part of a nationwide family planning organization.”

“Have you been there yet?”

“No.” Her lip trembled. “But I have an appointment after school on Monday. Will you go with me?”

“Of course,” Peter said, squeezing her hand. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“The way I understand it is, first, I have an interview, then the procedure is scheduled—there’s a waiting list—and I have to be accompanied by someone.”

“That will be me,” he said.

“After the procedure I’ll be kept there for a few hours, until they know I’m all right, then I can go home. But I don’t want to go home.”

“You can come to my house,” Peter said. “I’ll take care of you there, then take you home later.”

“What about your father? I don’t want him to know.”

“There’s a way into the house through the garden. He’s usually in his office, so I can take you upstairs.”

“We have to face the possibility that something might go wrong. In that case I’ll have to go to a hospital.”

Peter thought about that. “I don’t see any way that we can keep you out overnight. If you need to go to a hospital, I think you’ll have to tell your parents.”

“I don’t want to do that,” she said.

“I understand, but you have to think of them, as well as yourself.”

“I know, but I’m afraid.”

“I know you love them, so think about what you’re afraid of—disappointing them in some way?”

“Yes.”