Then he walks away, hand in hand with his adorable daughter, and I think maybe that was it. Maybe that’s what focuses his mind and makes him so cool when an absolute ice calm is called for—he has his daughter to think about, her safety and her future, and his only true loyalty is to her and her brothers and the woman who’s given them to him.

AFTER LUNCH WE TAKE the elevator downstairs and visit the park across the street. The day’s turned so sunny and warm, a perfect summer afternoon. I ask Iris if she’s up to walking so far, and she says of course she is. In fact, exercise is absolutely vital to a healthy pregnancy, and anyway a good long walk might bring on her labor.

“But don’t you want to wait until the last possible minute? Since it’s such a trial to you?”

“The opposite. I want it over with. I want to look the dragon in the face so I can stop dreading him.”

She gives me a particular look when she says this, which no microphone could have picked up, and turns to help little Claire with her shoes.

“And no more after that, I hope?” I ask.

She’s busy with shoelaces and doesn’t answer. But when she climbs to her feet, wincing, she says quietly, “Honestly, I’d hand you the gun myself.”

And I am left wondering on which Digby I’m supposed to fire it.

THE MEN TRAMP ON ahead with the boys, while Iris and I walk with Claire. To my surprise, the little tyke picks up my hand and swings along next to me. She calls me Auntie Wuth as if she’s known me all her life.

“Well, of course she does,” Iris says. “I talk about you all the time. The trouble we used to get into when we were little. You would always take the blame for me.”

“That’s because nobody would have believed you’d caused the trouble yourself. That innocent face of yours.”

She cuts off a laugh. I look at her face and notice she’s wincing, though she keeps on walking in that rolling waddle of pregnant women.

“Everything all right?” I ask.

“Just the usual. I don’t think it will be long.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can hold out much longer.” I cast a glance around us and see nobody near, except for a man in a dark suit who lingers on the path behind us, about thirty yards away. I speak in a soft voice. “I don’t know how you could stand it, all these years. The listening ears.”

She laughs gently. “I do appreciate your coming, Ruth. I mean that. After all these years, out of the blue. I don’t know how we’d manage without you.”