We jolt upward. Fox takes my hand—I don’t know if he’s acting on habit by now, or whether he wants to comfort me. Either way, I feel comforted. How much harder it would be to face her alone! Especially with Digby by her side, and their children, and an additional child crammed inside her womb, about to enter the world at any moment. I wonder why Kedrov didn’t come up with us, keep an ear on things, and I remember there’s no need. The Digbys’ apartment must contain more microphones than a Hollywood sound stage.

The elevator takes an eternity, not nearly long enough. The cab halts with a bang and a jerk. The doors open. Fox urges me out and holds my hand as we walk down the hallway. I wear a nifty navy blue jacket over a white silk shirt and a blue silk scarf patterned in gold horseshoes for luck; light tan slacks and comfortable Oxford shoes; my hair a little longer than I like it, brushed back from my face, waving softly beneath my small, plain hat. I consider myself smart and modern; Iris will think I look mannish and severe. I long for a cigarette and a double scotch. Instead I have Fox’s hand wrapped around my gloved fingers. Ahead of us, a door opens and a tall, angular man steps out, thinning hair sleek and gold under the hallway light. He waves at us.

“Hullo there! Welcome!” says Sasha Digby.

I’M NOT PREPARED FOR the fury that whips through me at the sight of him. I’ve almost forgotten about Digby as an actual man, a breathing human being, because he’s lived so long as a villain in my imagination. But you can’t just hate a person in the flesh, at the moment he presents his frail humanity to you—the thinning hair, the skin that’s taken on lines and texture, the anxious blue eyes that want so badly to please you—to be forgiven. So the hatred transforms in an instant to anger.

Still, I disguise it well. You never saw such an actress! I hurry forward to clasp both of Digby’s hands and mwa the air next to each cheek. “Sasha! My God, twelve years! I never dreamed we’d meet again here!”

“Nor did I, nor did I!” He turns to Fox and holds out his hand. “Sumner Fox, by God. I thought Iris was kidding me. Sasha Dubinin.”

“Dubinin. Pleasure.” Fox shakes his hand, man to man.

“Come in, come in. Iris! They’re here! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your coming out like this. I know it’s hell, a trip like that, visas and diplomatic clearance and every pesky thing. I hope nobody made any trouble for you.”