Alone in his office, lit by a banker’s lamp, his door closed, the drapes drawn against the emptiness of this new age, against all the dull days to come, Ben Shipman sits, his face in his hands, his spectacles on the desk before him, and Ben Shipman cries for two men, and for all that Ben Shipman has done and all that Ben Shipman has failed to do.
Then Ben Shipman, the lawyer, takes the first of the documents from the file on his desk, and prepares to turn into paper this passage from life.
Ben Shipman will guide Lucille.
Ben Shipman will handle the details.
Ben Shipman will look after everyone.
And none will speak to Ben Shipman of his loss.
None, save one.