Sarah shook her head. She wouldn’t take the responsibility. Her own attitude toward Miriam Blaylock was not quite clear to her: the woman—thing—was frightening and dangerously seductive. She had the power to call up desires best left sleeping. Sarah wanted no part of her.

“I’ve got to ask you, Sarah. You know her best.”

She looked down at the table. There was no way to refuse such an open request.

“I don’t know how to go about it.”

“Call her,” Tom said.

“Visit her. Don’t risk a call. Bring her back.” Hutch’s voice was full of sincerity and concern.

“Your director is right,” Sam Rush said. Tom looked down at his papers.

“I don’t know where she lives,” Sarah muttered desperately.

“We have her address—don’t we, Tom?” Hutch sounded almost as if he hoped “we” didn’t.

“Of course,” Tom snapped.

Sarah fought to control herself. Her hands twined and twined together, until she snatched them from the table. All eyes were now on her. “Yes,” she heard a small, unfamiliar version of herself say, “we’ve got to get her back. I’ll go at once.”

Miriam Blaylock’s home was unexpectedly charming. Sarah got out of the cab before the compact red-brick row house with its white marble trim and window boxes full of flowers. It was so fresh and light. The windows were open and cheerful rooms could be seen beyond them. Private house on Sutton Place, Lanvin suits—Miriam Blaylock’s genus certainly had no difficulty coping with the human milieu.

Sarah mounted the steps and pressed the doorbell. From within she heard a chime. A policeman strolled past whistling. Across the street a group of children huddled together talking quietly.

The door swung open on Miriam Blaylock. She wore a pink-and-white dress. When she smiled, any thought other than that of being welcomed into a lovely home by its charming owner instantly left Sarah’s mind.

“May I come in?”

Miriam stepped aside.

“Oh, I love pomander,” Sarah found herself saying. “It reminds me of my childhood.” The richly antique scent evoked an image of her grandmother’s front hall, of sun slanting in the windows on just such a day as this. She inhaled. “That really does take me back.”

“Would you like to sit down?”