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Show •21 father was Leonard Teller; he was a minor movie magnate of the forties and fifties who had slipped out of fashion. People said he'd been Kulbrick's partner in the making of Paths of Glory and had worked with Orson Welles on The Magnificent Ambersons. When his services were no longer wanted he built himself a house with private pool and tennis court in North Hollywood, across the Santa Monica Mountains from the madness; he taught film courses full of reminiscence at UCLA and Pepperdine University- Morgan had grown up in the middle of all that: she'd known Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield, Joan Crawford had come to dinner, Mickey Hargitay had broken down her father's office door one afternoon in a fit of jealousy. The rain was falling hard; a fierce uneven wind pushed it across the road in dark sheets that obscured all but the nearest trees. I glanced at Jacob again. "How are you and Kathleen getting along?" I said. "Pretty well." "He's been in love with the same girl since the seventh grade, if you can believe that," I told Morgan. She was a big-kneed graceful blackreyed little girl who had grown up into a small pretty woman. She seemed to enjoy having kids and keeping house for my brother; I suspected that she dominated him at home, and that he enjoyed it. "Do you remember the time you came through Denver and |