I got a call from New York today at 3:00 o’clock this afternoon, and there was the voice – a very sad voice. I said, “Hello.” She said, “Neville? This is Louise. I have sad news for you.” I said, “What happened?” She said, “Joseph died today. He died in my arms.” I said, “Was he sick?” “No, just a great – well, a rupture of the aorta, right in my arms and Neville’s arms.” Neville is my little namesake – one that I met before he came into this world. He is now 17. She continued, “Together we held him. He suffered seemingly for a little while – not too long, maybe a half an hour he seemed to be in great pain, and then that was it.” But he was 77 – lived a full, wonderful life, and will leave her a considerable fortune: factories here, factories in Paris, factories in Puerto Rico, and so, financially speaking, there is no problem, but a great tear.915 ¶30