
This story, to me, is about distance. Not only the distance between Calcutta, London and Boston, Massachusetts, but the emotional distance the narrator has between himself and his wife, Mala. The narrator is originally from Calcutta, India. Moves to London for a while, then finally settles in the Unites States. When he first moved to the states he rents a room from Mrs. Croft. Mrs. Croft is a one hundred and three year old widow. Mrs. Croft and the narrator have a nightly routine. Mrs. Croft calls him to sit on the bench and tells his that there is an American flag on the moon and has him say splendid. After meeting Helen, Mrs. Crofts daughter, the narrator finds out that Mrs. Croft is over a century old and has been widowed for some time, she also has to have cans opened for her because giving piano lessons have taken away all of the strength in her hands. The narrator is only rents from Mrs. Croft for a short time before his wife from India, Mala, moves to the United States. They find another place to live together. The two later go back to his first place in America ans see Mrs. Croft. They learn that she has broken her hip and can't be left alone for long. The couple had some what of a connection while at Mrs. Crofts house.
The couple begin to get accustom to American living. They still do have their Indian roots though Mala often makes authentic Indian cuisine and wears her sari. Some time passes and the narrator sees Mrs. Croft's obituary in the paper. "Mrs. Croft's was the first death I mourned in America, for hers was the first life I had admired; she had left this world at last, ancient and alone, never to return".