He looked over the menus at her. She wore her hair combed above her ears, letting it fall down on the back of her neck and shoulders in a style he wanted to think was dated. It wasn’t; it was a style for a little girl. Probably there were times she pulled her hair back tightly and rolled it into a bun, which would make her look more her age; but she looked very young, younger than Norma—again.

When she raised her eyes he asked what she wanted to order. She had not decided. He said he did not want a drink; he was going to have a small steak and salad. That would be all right with her. He beckoned to the waiter.

She opened her purse and took out her cigarettes. “May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Is she pregnant? His widow. I thought of it after you left and Murray said that you wouldn’t tell him. With that kind of an answer, I’ve been thinking of it since.”

“It’s something I’m not privileged to discuss, Betty.”

“I see.” She was quiet a moment. “I made up my mind about this—meeting you—yesterday. I thought I would tell Murray last night. I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to worry.” She took a drink of water. “I know some things about Colin that he didn’t know himself. I thought I wanted to tell you, but now that I’m here, I’m scared. I mean scared. If it were any worse, I’d be shaking.”

He wanted to wait her out.

“If you have to see us again, I’d be grateful if you didn’t mention it to Murray. It’s the first sneaky thing I’ve done.”

Leland said, “You have my word, although I won’t call it sneaky.”

“Murray and I are closer than many couples. It started out of necessity and we depend on it now. I know he would be hurt.”

She still didn’t know that her husband had told him anything. Kaminsky had felt guilty about the violation of confidence, too. Perhaps the violations and the guilt as precisely defined their marriage as their expressions of mutual need.

Now she said, “How do you get along with your brothers and sisters?”

“I don’t have any.”

“Neither do I. You give the impression of coming from a large family. Does your wife?”

“There’s only one of her, too.”

“That makes four of us—or made. Murray has two brothers and a sister. Colin was an only child. You and your wife get along with people better than he did, or I do. If I knew how you do it, I might be better off.”