After two stories by Bernard Kaplan
Edgar Pesach, the obituary writer, is on the roof of the Lincoln Plaza
Apartments. It is a deep autumn Sukkoth night.
The Philharmonic plays tonight—Boccherini, or Brahms?
Outside the ticket-box five women in draping, I6th Century, masculine
Furs stand and talk. They are in shadows, and their furs make
Their sholders larger than life, at least, for the moment.