“HER SUMMER DRESS is crisp, white with dark blue polka dots, open at the throat, sleeveless, set off by a wide red patent leather belt and espadrilles that raise her heels three inches from the sticky tarpaper. Backlit by the sun, her hair a splendor, she walks to the edge of the roof garden, looks down for a moment at the street 60 stories below, then returns to water the tomato plants. There are no insects up here.”