"Ten years seems like such a long time to wait for results," I said. Solly reflected with that faint remembering smile on his lips. "It did then." The girls returned with food and drink, and somehow Solly and I had warmed up over the topsoil recollection, and we all became quite gay and animated and loud-talking, and I suppose it was a little like old times. Then a little while later Celia took her purse in the other room, and when she came out she handed Dolores an envelope. I knew what was in it, and I wanted to shout, 'My God, don't do it! That's all the money we have in the world!' But I couldn't get the words out, and Celia said: "Dolly, here is something for you from us. It's a going-away present. We want you to have it before the others come." "How nice," said Dolly. "What can it be?" She opened the envelope, and a mixed expression played across her face--delight and dismay. "Why, it's money!... A lot of money!... Thousands!" She turned her head away in reluctance, then handed back the envelope. "Oh, no, Celia. We couldn't accept it." Celia refused to take it back. "Oh now, Dolly," she snapped, "don't be stuffy and proud and stupid! We have millions. We _want_ you to have it. You certainly need it; you can't deny that. So please accept it and make us happy." "It's wonderful of you both," said Solly. "But you know how it is. We just can't." "We just can't," repeated Dolly. "Oh please, please," cried Celia, and she was really getting emotional. "Don't you realize. This is the last time we'll ever see you! You're going to a far-away world, our two dearest friends. And this may seem like a lot of money, but it really isn't. It's all the gifts and presents we would give you in a lifetime, rolled up into one. It's funny little baby clothes when your children are born. It's anniversary gifts. It's for your boy's bar mitzvah and your daughter's confirmation. It's wedding presents when they grow up. It's--it's funeral wreaths!" Celia started to cry, and Dolly started to cry, and they hugged each other and started to cry even more, and the tears rolled down their cheeks. And the tears rolled down my cheeks, and Solly's too, I guess, and we shook hands very solemnly. And Celia stuffed the envelope into Dolly's hand. And then all of us really cut loose and bawled--I covering my face with my hands, and Solly burying his face in a handkerchief. Only Freddie wasn't crying at first. He was just standing there looking bewildered. And then he got scared and started to cry too, hanging onto my pants leg with one hand, and trying to reach Celia with the other. And then, thank God, the first guests arrived, ringing the bell, so that we had a compelling reason to stop. * * * * *