The World is the Home of Love And Death
“We were living down the road from Betty-and-Irving’s, in what had been a farmer-caretaker’s cottage. Betty was Ora’s aunt, her mother’s sister. Betty’s mother and father had lived on this Westchester hilltop, the top of this steep ridge: and over the years they had bought up two or three more places to enlarge their own.
Betty’s father was from Ohio and was a respectable sort, a front man for gangsters in the hotel and hotel-laundry business. Betty’s mother had been a pretty woman, bright, afra...id of boredom. This part of the neighborhood had not been fashionable. A Ziegfeld star had lived here, one who bathed in asses’ milk. Two farms were still in operation. Most of the five remaining large houses belonged to Jews or to Ora’s Mafia-allied grandparents.
Our cottage had no garage. We used the one at the main house, a wooden building painted very white and set at the end of a very short, steep, tightly curved driveway, overshadowed by oaks. We’d had the top down on the car.MoreLess
Betty’s father was from Ohio and was a respectable sort, a front man for gangsters in the hotel and hotel-laundry business. Betty’s mother had been a pretty woman, bright, afra...id of boredom. This part of the neighborhood had not been fashionable. A Ziegfeld star had lived here, one who bathed in asses’ milk. Two farms were still in operation. Most of the five remaining large houses belonged to Jews or to Ora’s Mafia-allied grandparents.
Our cottage had no garage. We used the one at the main house, a wooden building painted very white and set at the end of a very short, steep, tightly curved driveway, overshadowed by oaks. We’d had the top down on the car.MoreLess
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