“It’s been a long time for you, too, hasn’t it,” he said softly. Then he kissed her, and after a while he took off his clothes. He wasn’t self-­conscious, and she watched him. His body hair was as gold-­silver as the hair on his head; Adam’s had been black on his pale skin. Allan was thinner than she thought, not as tall. Shorter than Hawkins, taller than Adam, perfect, she told herself as he helped her take off her clothes. Perfect.

It was, too, except at the end, when she was afraid that she’d imagine that it was Adam in her instead of this man; not living Adam, holding her with that odd, intense gentleness she’d never forget, that no one could match, but Adam’s corpse the way she saw it in her worst moments: fish-­green skin sunk on its bones; round, jellied, lidless eyes staring; corpse fingers like claws holding her. But she didn’t. She imagined she was with Roger Hawkins in the bedroom in Brooklyn. He was naked and excited. She was naked, too, and they were standing next to Levy’s big, old bed, with their bodies barely touching.

In Laurel Jacob Levy celebrated Havdalah†† with the other men. They had a cold feast of rolls, butter and pot cheese, tea and whisky. A braided candle gave the only light. Levy poured the wine and blessed it. He opened the silver box of cloves and cinnamon, blessed it, breathed in the scent, then he passed it to Luria who sat next to him, and he smelled it and passed it to the next man. Finally Levy raised the cup of wine and drank most of it as was customary, then passed it so each man could have a sip. The cup came back to him and, with divided feelings—sorrow at the end of the Sabbath, and gratitude that it happened at all to give him this sense of peace—he extinguished the candle in the few drops of wine left in the cup. In the dark, he dipped his fingers in the wine, then ran them tenderly over Isaac Luria’s eyebrows. Luria smiled, and all the sternness left his face. Then Levy leaned over and kissed his friend. “Shabuoth tov”‡‡ he said, “Shabuoth tov.” They all embraced each other. A little light came through the basement windows and in it Levy saw Dworkin go to the light switch. In a second there would be light and the Sabbath would be over.