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followed in her father's footsteps, working for investment
banks. Her sister married a highly respected doctor and lives just a few blocks
from her mother. They have two little daughters, the sweetest things you've ever
seen, one of whom is named after Marion.
    She, however, has not been so lucky in marriage. Her first husband
was considered a great catch in New York society at the time. Edward Gordon was
from an old Connecticut family which owned land all over the States and Canada and
had interests in everything from oil and minerals to sugar and cotton. Their wedding
at St Patrick's on Fifth Avenue was the happiest day of her life and all the society
magazines were full of it. People stood on both sides of Fifth Avenue to watch and
wish the young couple well.
    They moved into a large apartment on Park Avenue and began the
rhythm of their married life: the office for him, lunches, bridge and fund-raising
events for her. Parties, dinners and balls for both in the evening. She was happier
than she ever thought possible, she says, biting a bread stick.
    But after a few months she noticed a change in Edward. He seemed
preoccupied, irritable, secretive. One day she called him at the office to suggest
they dip out of the party they were supposed to be going to that evening and have
dinner, just the two of them, at home. She would have the cook prepare his favourite
food. But his private line rang unanswered all afternoon. Finally his secretary
picked up and explained that Edward was in a meeting. Marion didn't mention it to
him but when she called a few days later, the same thing happened again. In fact,
every time she tried to call him at the office he wasn't there and his secretary
couldn't or wouldn't tell her when he would return. She didn't want to challenge
him, not wanting to cause a scene. 'And, I suppose, not wanting to learn anything
nasty,' she explains, running her finger around the rim of her champagne glass.
    After this had been going on for some weeks she confided in her
mother who told her not to worry, there was probably some rational explanation.
But she did worry and she became ill with it. When he asked her what the matter
was the only thing she could say for some reason was that she was pregnant. She
waited anxiously for his reaction. But he just poured himself a drink, apparently
completely uninterested in the news. 'Aren't you pleased?' she asked.
    'We'll be late for dinner,' was his reply.
    So one morning, she took a taxi down town to Wall Street and
sat at a table in a diner opposite her husband's office. She waited there all morning
drinking coffee. 'If he makes you that unhappy, he ain't worth it,' said the waitress
at one point. Marion was just wondering whether she ought to forget the whole thing
when she saw Edward walk quickly out of the office building. She got up and left
too, her heart thumping all the more because of all the caffeine inside her.
    He hailed a cab and got in. She looked around for one but there
was none to be seen. Suddenly, across the road she saw that an old man had flagged
down another cab. She dashed through the traffic and begged him to let her take
it - it was a matter of life or death. Obviously concerned for this distraught young
woman, he let her. She thanked him and asked the driver to follow Edward's cab which,
fortunately, was stuck at the lights.
    They went up town until they came to 40th Street. There his cab
dropped him off on a corner where he looked around quickly before setting off down
the street. Her cab followed him along a bit further as he walked along quickly
until he went into a shabby hotel. She got out and paid the cab and was just wondering
what to do next when she saw one of her best friends slip into the hotel entrance
as well. What would she be doing in a dive like this? Marion did not hang around
to do any more detective work. She went home and waited quietly for him to return
that evening.
    Just then our main course arrives and Marion smiles weakly