Herb takes me home to meet his parents as the girl he is going to marry.

Their house is a large English Tudor mansion too close to their neighbors to be called an estate, even though Mr. G. had bought the grassy lot behind the house.

Mrs. G. keeps up the pretense that she has never met me before.

The fact is, I’ve talked with and worked with everyone in the room almost every day for more than three years.   I know them better than my own lost family.

Everyone is pleasant, but it is a bit strained.

We make it a short visit.