Five billionth in line for the throne
“Count Lipschitz is on the phone,” Sue yelled. There was an unsaid “again” in her voice. He is becoming a pest, always calling just as I’m going out the door or just when dinner is ready. It’s uncanny how he knows exactly when I shut the door to the bathroom. He never wants anything, he just wants to chat about what he and Lady Lipschitz did last night — usually something I’m not interested in, like a masquerade ball or a dog show or a single-malt scotch tasting.