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Peter and Arrington appeared in his office, Peter dressed in a sweater and an open shirt.
“Where’s your necktie?” Stone asked.
“The headmaster told me not to wear one.”
Stone shrugged. “Okay. Peter, for purposes of this interview, your mother and I have decided to style ourselves as Mr. and Mrs.”
“Whew,” Peter said. “That’s a relief.”
“In fact,” Arrington said, “Stone and I have decided to make that styling permanent, and quite soon.”
Peter smiled broadly. “Then I won’t be a bastard?”
“Peter!” his mother said.
Stone laughed. “I don’t think you’d better bring that up again, and especially not at the school.”
They got out of a cab at Knickerbocker Hall, which occupied a large building in the East Nineties.
“It looks very well kept up,” Arrington said.
“They must have a big endowment,” Stone replied. “I imagine we’ll be hearing a lot about that.”
“You mean, we’ll have to make a contribution to get Peter in?”
“Oh, I think they’ll be more subtle than that,” Stone said.
They climbed the front steps and made their way to the administrative offices. Someone took their coats, then Arthur Golden, the headmaster, met them in the reception area and introduced himself. “Peter and I have already met, of course. This is a good time for our tour, since everyone is in class. In forty-five minutes, the bell will ring, and all hell will break loose.”
He led them down the main hallway, and they peeked into two or three classrooms. “The classes are quite small,” Arrington said.
“We’re proud of that,” Golden said. “Never more than twenty, and more often, fifteen or so.” He showed them the science labs, which were impressive, then he opened a large door that led to the next building.
They saw a life art class, featuring a not-quite-nude model, and a sculpture gallery. Then they went through a door and emerged into the balcony of an auditorium from which all the seats had been removed. A set had been constructed, and a student director was speaking with a small group of actors.
Golden pressed a finger to his lips.
Peter hung over the rail of the balcony to get a better view, and they all watched the scene performed. Golden led them out into the hall. “That will be filmed later; they have to move the camera from another set.”
“You have only one camera?” Peter asked.
“Two are being repaired,” Golden replied. “It seems they’re always in the shop. And they’re not digital.” He led them through another door that led to a corridor containing a number of rooms that were used as editing studios.
“You’re still using Moviolas?” Peter asked, referring to the editing machines.
“We have a Steenbeck,” Golden replied, “but we need new equipment.”
After their tour they returned to Golden’s office, where they were offered tea.
“We’d like very much to have Peter as a student here,” the man said. “I’ve talked about his situation with some of the faculty, and we think that his time should be divided equally between film classes and courses from the university curriculum for the freshman year.”
“I’ve already taken most of those courses,” Peter said.
“I saw that from your transcripts, but we think you need more history, a philosophy course, and a language.”
“I’ve been tutored in French,” Peter said, “but I never had a course at school.”
“We’ll evaluate you to get a sense of your level, and go from there,” Golden said. He handed Stone an envelope. “Here is a schedule of our fees.”
