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"WeU, maybe this one is, too.""With a name like Steinberg? Don't be sosilly!""Perhaps there are Jewish bishops," MrJohnson suggested.Mrs Johnson snorted; she positively did."And what does he do, may I ask?""Do?""For a living, of course.""Nothing, I gather.""There, that confirms it."Mr Johnson dared to look a trifle exasperated."Really, Amy," he said. "There are alsosome gentiles who choose to be indolent.""He must definitely be odd," Mrs Johnsonproceeded, but was prepared to acquaint herselfwith her dinner again."How come?""Well, enough money to buy the AUinghamplace, does nothing for a living, unmarried,lives alone, and a Jew into the bargain.""He doesn't exactly live alone," Mr Johnsoninformed her."What!" And food again failed to interest."I said, he doesn't exactly live alone.""I heard you, I heard you! Now tell me hesupports a whole Jewish family! A whole Jewishcommunity!" she was compelled to append."No, only one.""What, one family?""One person.""A mistress!" she shrieked. "I might haveknown! And he thinks he's going to bring herhere, to live on The Heights!""No, not at aU.""What do you mean, *No, not at aU!' Doyou mean to say she'll only come on occasions?""I meant no, it's not a mistress.""What then?""Another man, I'm afraid. Fellow calledHenderson."Unbecoming or not, Mrs Johnson let her jawdrop."You don't mean to say that . . ."But she couldn't bring herself to finish. MrJohnson decided he'd better do so for her, ifonly to get it over."Looks a bit like it, it seems.""Oh, my God!""Now, Amy! I only said 'looks' like it.""Looks like it! Looks like it!"He wondered if she might even break oneof her own dinner plates. But of course, shedid manage to control herself."What age is he?" she said. "Steinberg, Imean.""Around fifty, I'd say. It's not easy to tellwith a well-preserved man.""That's one way of putting it! And the otherone, whatever his name is?""Henderson? StiU in his twenties."Mrs Johnson gaped."And you say it just looks like it!" sheeventually said."Well. I ""Alex Johnson! Do you mean to tell me thata couple of pansies have dared to buy a houseon The Heights and you just sit there and sayit looks like it and you haven't the faintestintention of doing anything about it?""Now really. Amy! Steinberg's bought theplace. What on earth do you expect me to do!Change his sex? Run him out of town?"Mrs Johnson's gape turned to venomousglare. Then she threw down her dinner napkinwith considerable force, though not as a towel."What do I expect you to do?" she retorted."I expect you to do jowething about it, ofcourse!""Amy, I've just said ""Well, if you won't, I most certainly shaU!"And he hadn't the slightest doubt that shemost certainly would.* * %She also didn't doubt that she most certainlywould. She wasn't on so many committees fornothing. If the men wouldn't do something,then it would be up to the women. She couldamass a pretty formidable array, she contended,when it came to committees.It took her forty-five minutes on the phoneand she'd got the best of them behind her:Beryl Adams, Bessie Matthews, Hilda Haley,Elspeth Carruthers. With herself as selfappointedchairman, she considered it the mostformidable committee she'd ever contrived. Ithad taken only a few words to each of themabout having a couple of 'those' on TheHeights and they were immediately agreed thatsomething had to be done. It might not beoften that they agreed, but in a matter likethis there was no question about petty differencesbetween them. They were all agreed ina trice.After that, it was only a matter of an houror two and they had Marian Hudson, MaryWESTERLY, No. 1, MARCH, 1 968