Of them all Abe seemed least unstrung. He was his usual gently taciturn self. Daniel thought Time had been unfair to say he was senile. The only time his mind seemed distinctly to slip the tracks was when after his second whiskey sour, he asked Daniel, in a tone of guarded inquiry, what prison had been like. Daniel gave the same evasive answer he’d given the first time his father had asked the question nineteen years ago. Prison was a disgrace and he’d rather not discuss it. To which his father replied, once again, that that was probably the wisest attitude Daniel could take. Time, Abe declared, heals all wounds.

Daniel declined, and then was compelled to accept, a ritual second helping of the stuffing. Just as his plate was passed back to him the phone rang. Cecelia disappeared into the kitchen and returned looking disappointed.

“That was Mr. Tauber,” she informed Daniel. “He was making sure you were here. He said your chauffeur will be here in half an hour or so.”

“His chauffeur!” Millie echoed, scathingly. “Get that.”

She spoke — habitually, it seemed — with her mouth full. Daniel couldn’t remember her doing that when he’d known her. She seemed, in just about every way, to have become coarser. Perhaps it came of running a restaurant.

“I thought,” Cecelia said, frowning (for she warned her mother about being sarcastic), “that it might be Aurelia. The least she could do is call up and say hello to Daniel.”

“Well, I’m sure she would,” said Milly, grinding pepper onto her potatoes, “if she didn’t have her job to think of.”

“Aurelia works for your old buddy Whiting,” Abe volunteered.

“He knows that,” Milly said, glaring at her husband.

“But it’s about all I know,” Daniel said, placatingly. “How did it happen?”

“Very simple,” Cecelia answered. “She sucked up to him.”

“Cecelia! Really!”

“Oh, not physically, Mother. But every other way she could think of. It started actually, on the day of your wedding, Daniel. My sister isn’t one to waste time. She started in on Boadicea, gushing about horses. Boadicea had to promise her that she could come out and ride one of her father’s horses.”

“It was perfectly natural for Aurelia to talk about horses. She had a passion for horses. Even Daniel should be able to remember that.” Milly was determined to defend her absent daughter, if only because Aurelia had had the courage to stick to her guns and stay away from the family reunion.

“She had a passion for anything that cost money. Anyhow,” Cecelia went on, relieved to have found, at last, a subject for conversation, “when we all next got together, at the memorial service for you and Boa, Aurelia’s first concern was to remind Miss Whiting, the one who lives in Brazil now—”

“Alethea lives in Brazil?” Daniel asked.

Cecelia nodded impatiently. “She came right out and told her about Boadicea’s promise. Well, what could they do? They invited her out there, and she did one of her numbers, and got invited back. She was out at Worry at least once a week for the rest of that summer.”

“You could have gone too, if you’d wanted,” Milly argued.

Cecelia disdained to reply.

“And from that she went on to become his secretary?” Daniel asked.

“One of his secretaries.”

“Cecelia’s jealous,” Milly explained. “Aurelia earns approximately double what she does. Despite how many years in dental school?”

“A lifetime.”

“Aurelia is awfully pretty,” Rose explained.

“She certainly is,” Abe agreed with paternal complaisance. “But so is Cecelia. Every bit as pretty. They’re twins, after all.”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Michael, and held out his empty wine glass.

Daniel, sitting next to the bottle, refilled his brother-in-law’s glass.

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” suggested Cecelia. “I’m sure Daniel has all kinds of questions he’s dying to ask.”

“I’m sure I must, but so help me I can’t think of one.”

“Then I can,” said Rose, holding out her glass to him. “Or have you already heard about Eugene Mueller?”

“No.” The bottle was empty, so Daniel reached behind him for a fresh bottle from the bucket on the folding table. “Has Eugene returned from the dead too?”

Rose nodded. “Years and years ago. With a wife and two sons and a degree from Harvard Law School.”

“No kidding.”

“They even say he’s going to be the next mayor. He’s a real idealist. I think.”

“If he is elected,” Michael said, “he’ll be the first Democrat mayor in Amesville in nearly half a century.”

“Incredible,” said Daniel. “Gee, I wish I could vote for him.”

“He was a good friend of yours, wasn’t he?” Jerry asked.

Daniel nodded.

“And his brother,” Rose went on, ignoring dirty looks from both Milly and Cecelia, “that is to say, his oldest brother, Carl — you knew him too, didn’t you?”

Daniel popped the cork from the third bottle and managed to fill Rose’s glass without spilling a drop. “We’d met,” he allowed.

“Well, he’s dead,” said Rose with satisfaction. “A sniper got him in Wichita.”

“What was he doing in Wichita?”

“He’d been called up for National Guard duty.”

“Oh.”

“I thought you’d like to know.”

“Well, now he knows,” said Milly. “I hope you’re satisfied.”

“That’s too bad,” said Daniel. He looked round the table. “Anybody else need to be replenished?”

Abe looked at his glass, which was almost empty.

Milly said, “Abe.”

“I guess I’ve had my limit.”

“I guess you have,” said Milly. “You have some more, if you want, Daniel. You’re probably more used to it than we are.”

“That’s show business, Mother. We drink it for breakfast. But in fact I’ve reached my limit too. I’ve got to go on stage in two hours.”

“An hour and a half, more nearly,” said Cecelia. “Don’t worry — I’m keeping track.”

The phone rang again just after Cecelia had passed round the dessert, which was home-made raspberry ice cream. It was tremendous ice cream, and she was back at the table before anyone had bothered to start talking again.

“Who was that?” Michael asked.

“Another crank. Best thing is just ignore them.”

“You, too?” said Milly.

“Oh, they’re all harmless enough, I’m sure.”

“You should tell them to stuff it,” said Rose militantly. “That’s what I do.”

“You all get crank phone calls?” Daniel asked.

“Oh, I don’t get them on your account,” Rose assured him. “It’s because I’m a phoney.”

“I told her not to,” said Jerry morosely, “but she wouldn’t listen. She never listens.”

“It’s a person’s own business what color she is.” She looked Daniel square in the eye. “Am I right?”

“Don’t lay the blame on Daniel’s shoulders,” Milly snapped. “It was your own damned folly, and you’ll just have to live with it till the stuff wears off. How long does that take, by the way?”

“About six months,” said Daniel.

“Christ All-Mighty.” Jerry turned to his ex-fiancée. “You said six weeks.”

“Well, I don’t intend to let it wear off. So there. You all act like it’s a crime or something. It’s not a crime — it’s an affirmation!”

“I thought we’d agreed,” said Cecilia, “that Rose’s trip to the beauty parlor was something we weren’t going to talk about.”

“Don’t all look at me,” said Rose, who was showing some visible signs of distress. “I didn’t bring it up.”

“Yes you did,” said Jerry. “You brought it up when you said about the phone calls you’d been getting.”

Rose began to cry. She left the table and went out into the living room, and then (the screen door banged) into the front yard. Jerry followed a moment later, mumbling an apology.

“What kind of phone calls?” Daniel asked Cecelia.

“Really, it isn’t worth discussing.”