Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. And now, my angel, that I am acquainted with your sentiments on this subject, I shall readily fulfil a promise which I made to your lamented parent, whose loss I shall ever deplore. They’re too free for their innocence or too innocent for their freedom. ‘Certainly you must have seen her. And yet—you millionaires should really, I think, cultivate the art of discrimination. He recognized me at once, and he behaved like a madman. A day will come when you will thank me.
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