Constantin, a short but attractive man, picks Esther up and drives her to the UN. On the way he holds her hand, and Esther feels happier than she has since childhood when her father was still alive. As they enter an auditorium at the UN she reflects on how strange it is that she’s never before realized she was “only purely happy until [she] was nine years old” (75).

Esther is impressed by a burly Russian girl performing a translation. She starts to think of all the skills she doesn’t have. She hasn’t learned shorthand and hates the idea of transcribing men’s letters for the rest of her life—she wants to write her own letters. She can’t dance, sing, or speak a foreign language. For the first time in her life Esther feels inadequate. She pictures her life like a fig tree, with each branch holding a fig that represents the vision of a possible future: dutiful wife, world traveler, Olympic champion, famous editor. She sees herself sitting in the tree, starving because she is unable to decide which life she wants. One by one all of the figs shrivel up and drop off the tree.

After the UN Constantin takes Esther to a fancy restaurant.