“Three o’clock, Bonney’s. We’re going to talk about the High View Shopping Center. Does Mike have the figures?”

“He was able to tell me before Schwartzwald came in that he needs another half hour, then he’ll be able to spread them out for you. Do you want to see the Herald-Press?”

“No, I had it in the cab coming down. Were there any other calls?”

“No. No, there weren’t.”

He hesitated, realizing that it wasn’t the casual question he had thought. Florence had known it right away. He didn’t expect Karen to call. He had her schedule; she couldn’t. He would play this scene again today if he wasn’t careful. He said, “I’m going in to see Mike while I drink my breakfast. Give me a buzz in five minutes.”

On her signal he made his way back through his office to the waiting room. Miller rose, removing his hat, and tried to take Mrs. MacIver by the elbow. She had been dreaming and, startled, she pulled her arm back. She saw Leland’s interest and she looked away as she stood up, brushing at her coat. It wasn’t a natural, spontaneous act. He wanted to see what would happen if he stared. When her eyes came up she flushed and tried to look away again. It wasn’t shyness exactly. It was a kind of curious, misplaced intensity. Now Leland knew more about her than he would have if she had ignored him.

She had unbuttoned her coat in the warmth of the office and underneath she had on a white-trimmed navy blue smock suit. No hat; her hair had been blown by the wind. Her hair was as black as a cat’s. It came halfway down her neck all the way around and was parted on the side and combed almost straight: it made her look like a little girl. She was little, five feet one or two. She had an annoyed expression, almost sulking. A better disposition would have suited her unlined face. It had occurred to Leland that she could be Miller’s cousin, whom he had fetched here on a stupid errand, but the action between them now made him reject that. Her husband could have abandoned her, but Leland did not think much of that, either. She was not the kind who got abandoned—he was trying to be objective. She was a very pretty young woman, and her prettiness did not have much to do with being pregnant. She had a casebook full of problems—her youth, her skin, she was probably flat-chested—but there was something interesting and difficult about her.

Miller let her through the gate, staying close to her side. He stuck his right hand out for Leland.