“Only at the obvious Americans. Remember, I was a Yankee sailor in Asia myself.”

“Oh. Well, all right, but watch it. ‘There were Japanese everywhere, perfectly well behaved. When a mustached man entered, I guessed he was Italian, which made Kai-rong laugh.’ ”

“He’s laughing at her.”

“He’s her brother, he’s allowed.”

“I’ll remind you next time your brothers laugh at you.”

“You’d better not. ‘It was Sir Horace Kadoorie, a wealthy Jew from Bombay. How am I supposed to know what Jews look like? I don’t know what anyone looks like unless they call on Father. And the famous Sir Horace is small and dark. The only Indians I’ve ever seen are those gigantic Sikhs. Kai-rong kept laughing and said I’d seen other Jews and Indians on the streets, but I probably thought they were all Italians, too. I’d have thrown my champagne at him but my glass was empty. If I were allowed on the streets I could learn to tell people apart! He said the Bombay Jews are originally from Baghdad, which accounts for their coloring and size, and that not all Jews look like them, either. When I asked how he became such an expert on the subject of Jews, he blushed! And then said out of nowhere how much he was enjoying the string quartet.’ ”

I glanced up at Bill; he was grinning but silent. Well, I hadn’t said he couldn’t smile.

“ ‘I thought the quartet was boring. I wanted to hear the Filipino jazz band in the nightclub. But I didn’t say that, so he wouldn’t think I’m ungrateful. One day soon I’ll play him my jazz records, and show him the American dances the Feng sisters taught me (while Amah was gossiping with their cook!).

“ ‘So many people came over to welcome Kai-rong home! Some asked who his companion was. When he introduced me eyebrows flew up. “This is little Mei-lin?” they’d say-if they knew I even existed! One Frenchman said he suddenly regretted not calling on Father while Kai-rong was away. Each time someone complimented me, I gave them a distant smile, to show I was pleased to meet them but really, one meets so many people, doesn’t one?’ ”

“I knew it!” Bill broke in. “This girl doesn’t get out much, but she knows how to make men feel small. You’re all born with that talent, aren’t you?”

“No, but we develop it early, after we’ve met a man or two. Shall I go on?”

“Please.”

“ ‘Once each one left I made Kai-rong tell me all about them. The Frenchman, he said, is a wine importer, and I could thank him for the champagne that was making me tipsy. I told him I wasn’t tipsy-’ ”

“She was too.”

“Granted. ‘-and asked about a sad old woman. She’s a Russian countess! Here since the Bolshevik Revolution. Kairong says all the White Russians are aristocracy of some sort, which doesn’t keep them from jobs as waiters and seamstresses. He suggests I take a lesson from that. Just like Father! And I can sew, though I’d like to see him wait on tables.’ ”

I took a tea break. “I can sew, too, by the way.”

“I know you can. And I’m a lousy waiter, but a hell of a short-order cook. So when the revolution comes, we’re in business.”

“What a relief. ‘We ate roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. It wasn’t the first time I’d had them, and I told Kai-rong he needn’t think it was: The Tsangs keep an English cook. I don’t like roast beef-it seems rude to serve such a big, unflavored slab of meat-but Kai-rong says it’s the most British meal of all. The evening raced by like a kaleidoscope of dinner jackets and silk gowns. I was so happy to be there! Probably because of the excitement, some parts are hazy.’ ”

“Or the tipsiness.”

“Shush! ‘I remember meeting a bookseller called Morgan, and a Dutch doctor. Two dashing soldiers approached us together: a German officer named Ulrich, and his friend General Zhang. They both kissed my hand!’

“I don’t know the dashing German,” I interrupted myself to tell Bill, “but the dashing General Zhang is the guy she eventually married. C. D. Zhang and Zhang Li’s father. But you need to read Rosalie’s letters. He doesn’t come off quite so well. ‘Three school friends of Kai-rong’s sat and drank champagne with us; we all found each other amusing, oh how we laughed! They excused themselves, with winks they thought I didn’t see, saying they were off to Madame Fong’s. When I asked who that was, they roared. After they left, Kai-rong’s only answer was that Madame Fong is no one I’ll ever need to know. He thought I had no idea-but of course I do! She must be a courtesan, and his friends were off to a flower house! I asked Kai-rong if he’d ever been to Madame Fong’s. He opened his mouth with no sound, like a carp. I laughed so hard I cried.’ Is that what they called them when you were a sailor?”

“Who called what?”

“Flower houses.”

“How would I know?”

“Uh-huh. ‘When we were leaving (the Sikh winked again!) Kai-rong asked if I’d enjoyed myself and whether I was happy. I said yes yes yes! I had a wonderful time!

“ ‘But if by happy, he meant satisfied-no, I’m not satisfied. Tomorrow I’ll be expected to resume my life as prisoner. Calligraphy, embroidery- no no no no no!!! Crowds, music, laughter-this is the life I want! And the life I’ll have.’ ”

Turning the page, I found a new date, which meant a new entry. I closed the book and took a breath.

“You’re stopping?” Bill protested. “I want to know if she got it.”

“Got what?”

“The life she wanted.”

“You’ll have to wait. This translation stuff is tiring, you know.”

“Even for a genius?”

“I’m immune to flattery.”

Barely audible above the swirling voices and Cantopop Muzak, my phone chirped the ringtone of an unfamiliar number. Who invented this device, I wondered, and did he really do us a favor? Well, maybe he did. The caller turned out to be Anita Horowitz.

“When Zayde was dozing I opened the box. There’s a set of letters. They’re mostly from Rosalie to her mother, but they’re in German, so I can’t read them. And there’s one from someone else to her, in German, too. That one was mailed to her in Shanghai, General Delivery, but the ones to her mother don’t have addresses or stamps. They were never mailed.”

“No?” I thought about that. “Anita, I’d love to read them.” For the case, of course. Strictly for the case. “May I?”

“If you think it would help. I can make copies when I pick up my son from Little League. Zayde won’t notice them gone for that short a time. Can you come out and get them?”

“Absolutely! Thanks!”

When I clicked off, Bill asked, “What are you so excited about?”

I told him what Anita had found. “Though I have to admit I’m not so excited about driving back out to New Jersey right now. And I think my mother wants me home for dinner.”

“Your mother always wants you home for dinner.”

“Yes, but…” He was right, of course. At a loss to explain what was different now, I settled for “I’ve been away.” Which, I realized, was the same nonexplanation I’d offered Joel about Bill.

“I’ll go.”

“Back to Teaneck? By yourself?”

“It’s my fate. To be alone, solitary, by myself, while you-”

“Don’t start that stuff.”

“Oh, okay. But I’m the one who reads German. I’ll go get the letters and settle in with my German-English dictionary.”

“Sounds cozy.”

“Not as cozy as-oh, right. Never mind. You go home and rack up karma points by having dinner with your mother.” He gave me a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and left me at Tai-Pan.