We drove by another billboard: “Ted Lempert for State Senate.”

“Ted Lempert,” Lidiya mused, then turned to me. “Who is this Ted Lempert?”

I said that I didn’t know, but that I thought he wanted to be a senator.

“Hmm,” she said. “Lempert. I knew a Lempert once—an artist. His name was Vladimir. Vladimir Lempert.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to think of something to say. “I’m reading a novel by Balzac now about somebody called Louis Lambert.” I tried to say “Lambert” to sound like “Lempert”.

We drove the rest of the way to the hotel in silence.