tumbling out of her mouth, “and drive us back on Sunday night.”
“There’re all those lessons on Saturday morning,” Leslie said doubtfully.
“Those snooty juvenile delinquents,” Caroline said. “They’d vote you Woman of the Year if you gave them one Saturday off.”
“Sssh, Caroline,” Leslie said. “I’m thinking.”
“There’s too much thinking going on in this house,” Caroline said despairingly. “We’ll think ourselves into absolute inertia .”
“Will you keep quiet for a moment, Caroline,” Strand said crossly.
“He’s a lonely old man,” Caroline persisted. “The least we could do would be to cheer him up a little. The house has sixteen bedrooms he told me. How would you like to be alone rattling around in sixteen bedrooms week after week? You and Mother’re always telling me we should be considerate of the needs of others. Well, let me tell you, Mr. Hazen is an other.”
“Miss lawyer,” Leslie said crisply, if you’ll stop for a minute, maybe we can discuss this.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Caroline said.
Leslie touched her hand gently.
“All right,” Caroline said, sitting back, resigned and folding her arms. “My lips’re sealed.”
“Are you sure he included us all?” Leslie asked. “Jimmy and Eleanor, too?”
“Sure,” Caroline said.
“Did he say as much?” Strand said.
“Not in so many words,” Caroline admitted. “But it was certainly implied.”
“Allen,” Leslie said, “you look as though a little sea air wouldn’t do you any harm.”
“Now,” Caroline said triumphantly, “we’re beginning to talk some sense around here.”
“I imagine I could postpone the lessons,” Leslie said thoughtfully. “Some way. And I’d have to talk to Eleanor and Jimmy, see what they want to do…”
“If they deprive me,” Caroline said, “for their own selfish reasons, I’ll never speak to either one of them again.”
“Don’t talk like a baby,” Leslie said. “I said we’d discuss it.”
Then the phone rang and Strand stood up from the table. “I’ll get it,” he said. “It’s probably the lonesome lawyer, himself.”
It was Hazen on the phone. “I’m not interrupting your dinner, I hope,” he said.
“No,” Strand said. “We were just finishing.”
“Did you enjoy the Berlioz?”
“It was superb,” Strand said. “Thank you again.”
“Not at all. Any time you want to go, just let me know. They send me tickets for just about everything and very often I find I’m not free on a particular evening.”
“Caroline told me you walked her home,” Strand said, thinking, What must it be like to be sent tickets to just about everything? “It was very thoughtful of you.”
“She’s a lovely child,” Hazen said. “And bright, along with everything else. Did she tell you about our enjoyable little conversation?”
“She did,” Strand said. He couldn’t help thinking about how Hazen would describe whatever conversations he had had with his son before they broke the lock on the door. “I had a little conversation myself with a young person this afternoon,” Strand said. “The boy I told you about—Romero. Not exactly enjoyable.”
“What did he say?”
“He’ll think about it.”
“Would it help if I talked to him?” Hazen asked.
“I doubt it.”
“Well, you know best. Did Caroline ask you about coming out to the Island this weekend?”
“Indeed she did,” Strand said. “She’s been bludgeoning her mother and me all through dinner about it.”
“You are coming, aren’t you?” Hazen sounded anxious.
Sixteen bedrooms to rattle around in and a heated pool to swim in by himself. “We’re still trying to see if we can work it out,” Strand said.
“Your other daughter and your son are invited, too, of course.”
“So Caroline implied. I don’t know what their plans are. Can I call you on Wednesday or Thursday?”
“Anytime,” Hazen said quickly. “Have you got a pencil handy?
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