“And how do you feel about David?”

“I love the boy. He’s always been the perfect young man, you know—top of his class, everybody’s choice to succeed.” She made as if to continue, but stopped.

“But?”

“But I don’t understand his generation; they are all so different from the way we are, used to having everything so early in their adulthood.”

“You think he might have cut corners?”

“A billion dollars’ worth of corners?” she asked. “It hardly seems possible.”

“I guess we’ll know when the accountants are done,” Stone said.

When they were back in the car Adele said, “Now I’d like to see your mother’s pictures.”

Stone mixed them a drink in the living room, then took Adele upstairs in the elevator and switched on the lights that washed the wall where the four pictures hung.

Adele went and stood before them, gazing intently at one after the other. She turned and put her hand on her breast. “They take my breath away,” she said.

“They still do that to me, too,” Stone replied.

“If you should ever—”

Stone held up a hand. “Never. They’ll go to the Metropolitan Museum—eventually—to hang with her other work there. The museum shop is already selling reproductions that are somewhat smaller than the originals.”

Adele sipped her drink and looked around the room. “You’ve done this quite well,” she said. “Who was your designer?”

“I was,” Stone replied.

“I’m not at all uncomfortable in your bedroom,” she said, “but I’d like to take one more look at your pictures and then be taken home.”

“As you wish,” Stone said. He waited until she was finished, then took her empty glass and led her to the elevator.

“Did you ever marry?” she asked on the way down.

“Never,” Stone lied. There had been a marriage, with the daughter of a friend, but it was terminated after only a few weeks. He had never felt married.

“Do you have something against the institution?” she asked.

“No, I always assumed I would be married someday; it just hasn’t happened.”

They left the elevator and walked to the car.

“Have you ever come close to marrying?” she asked as he opened the door for her.

“Yes, but I’ve managed to stay out of serious trouble.”

She laughed. “A bachelor would look at it that way.”

“It was just a joke,” he said.

“I wonder,” she replied.

“I’ll have the driver take you home, if that’s all right.”

“Of course,” she said. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek, then kissed him in a meaningful way. “I hope you’ll ask me out again.”

“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked.

“I’m perfectly available.”

“I’ll pick you up at nine on Saturday morning, then.”

“Where are we going?”

“A surprise,” he said. “Bring country clothes and some good boots for walking and a warm coat.”

“I’ll be ready,” she said.

He kissed her again, then put her in the car and sent it on its way. Now he had something to look forward to.