He seemed tired, irritated, but when he finally looked up at me, he smiled. Again he mentioned Saturday, sighing, “The family … ” and I did something foolish: I blushed. Then he asked if I would be free to return to the office next Saturday. I said yes, too enthusiastically. Then he raised his eyes and looked at me, unsmiling, with a gentle seriousness. “Around four?” he proposed. I nodded. My hands were cold on the glass top of the desk. Finally, he asked me to show him a letter I had written and, when I returned, he was another man. He even said the letter wouldn’t do and that I had to
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