The New Yorker: Fiction cover image

Camille Bordas Reads Saul Bellow

The New Yorker: Fiction

CHAPTER

Those Are the Dandies of Respectability

Rogan looked at the man next to him and felt linked through all existence. He was middle aged, sturdy, with clear skin and blue eyes. His hands were clean, well formed, but rogan did not approve of them. The coat he wore was a fairly expensive blue check such as rogan would never have chosen for himself. And his straight and purely roman nose, even the way he sat strongly suggested one person to rogan, joan. This man not only looked like joan's father, whom rogan detested, he looked like Joan herself. Forty years hence, a son of hers, provided she had one, might be like this. A son of

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