As years passed, Elise Teresa Lee, now in old age (1997), sitting in her rooms, in a large house her son now owned, she began to get new satisfaction off of the reflection of herself as a mother with a son who owned much property in the city, proper. In the evenings she sat on her wobbly thin legged chair knitting, watching old movies on the television a few feet away, she thought of her son among the men and women of the business class, with her bent heavy small fingers, old and wrinkled, no longer able to straighten them out, with pride. She recalled how her heart had jumped when he finished college, and now he had written three books. It seemed to her unbelievably astonishing...
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