“First thing tomorrow, we’ll get a listing of available apartments from an agent. It will have to be a furnished apartment, naturally, because they won’t have brought much with them, will they? I’ll insist on one with lots of windows. Good light is very important when so many of our winter days are gray and dreary. Of course, they may stay with us for as long as it takes, but I understand the importance of having a place of one’s own after an upheaval like the one they’ve suffered.”

The professor reached for his wife’s fluttering hand, stilling it. “Eloise, my love. You haven’t eaten. You’ll need your strength if you’re planning a busy day.”

“No, what I need is sleep. Plenty of sleep. I think I’ll go to bed now so we can get an early start.” She rose from the table, and Ans knew her well enough by now to be certain she wouldn’t be convinced to return.

Eloise poured herself into the task of finding a furnished apartment with a feverish intensity that worried her husband. He cautioned Ans not to leave her side. By the end of the week, they’d found three possibilities, and Eloise turned her attention to readying her town house for their guests. She asked Ans to help put fresh linens on the beds in the spare bedrooms, ignoring the housekeeper’s protests that it was her job to do it. They shopped for flowers and French pastries. While the professor drove to the station to meet the train, Eloise set out coffee and tea in her best china cups and arranged the pastries on a platter. Queen Wilhelmina herself might have been coming to visit. By the time their guests arrived, Eloise’s agitated state made Ans feel more dread than anticipation.

Ans greeted the Jewish father and daughter at the door, struck by how haunted and ghostly they looked, as if the essence of them had been left behind in Germany. They arrived with only three suitcases and a violin case, which the daughter held closely. Mr. Jacobs looked as though he’d once been heavier and could use some of Mama’s hearty farm dinners with potatoes and butter and fresh cream to regain his vigor. Miriam Jacobs was slender and pale, like a plant in need of sunlight and fertile soil. She was strikingly pretty, with dark hair and eyes, and she moved with the graceful elegance of a ballerina. But Ans noticed how her hands trembled as she reached for her teacup or selected one of the pastries from the plate.

“You speak German?” Miriam asked in surprise as Ans began chatting with her.

“Yes, a little —I could use practice.”

“I learned some Dutch in the camp,” Miriam said. “Maybe you can teach me more.”