And what you’re feeling is normal in a dangerous situation — overwhelm and guilt when someone is harmed.

Joseph Alsop, the acerbic columnist she married in 1961, called his crowd “the ever-diminishing group of survivors of the WASP ascendancy.” It was a world of perfect manners and closely held power, not hugs and meaningful exchanges.

The books on top of the piano resonate when he plays certain notes.

That chickenshit drove his men nearly to mutiny.