Envy and cruelty inevitably accompany fame, however small that fame may be. It doesn’t matter where it rises—in the schoolyard, in boardrooms, in the hallways of universities, or on a gallery’s white walls. Out in the big world, the name William Wechsler meant very little, but in the incestuous circle of collectors and museums in New York, Bill’s reputation was getting warmer, and even a dim glow had the power to burn the likes of Henry Hasseborg.
