Sarah followed her into a marvelous living room. Morning light poured in the windows, which overlooked a garden. The room was furnished with Regency antiques, lightly graceful chairs and couches. On the floor was a silk carpet from China, depicting many of the very flowers that bloomed in the garden. Blue silk curtains hung at the windows and the ceiling was a trompe l’oeil rendering of a summer’s sky. It was the kind of room that almost made you laugh with delight. Sarah stood in the doorway, her hands folded under her chin. She knew she was smiling like a little girl. Miriam turned, met her eyes and burst out laughing. Her eyes sparkled with true and unrestrained warmth.

Sarah came into the room and sat on one of the two facing love seats.

“May I give you a cup of coffee? I’ve just made some.”

“That would be lovely.”

Miriam’s voice floated back as she went to the kitchen. “I’ll bet you didn’t get a wink of sleep. It’s lucky I just happened to be making some coffee.”

She handed Sarah a cup. It was rich and smooth, altogether extraordinary. Its taste was all the aroma promised. “This is nice,” Sarah said.

Miriam sat beside Sarah, placing her own cup on the mosaic-covered coffee table. Sarah’s eyes were attracted to the mosaic’s delicate beauty. It portrayed a goddess standing on a rainbow with sickle moon above her head. “Lamia,” Miriam said as Sarah’s fingers caressed the tiny stones. “Her food is youth. Her symbol is the rainbow because of her beauty and elusiveness. She is one of the immortals. The mosaic is from the lost city of Palmyra.”

“What happened to it?”

“Greed. Like the rest of the Empire. It was a Roman city.”

“This must be worth—” She stopped, embarrassed. How crass to gush about the value of somebody’s art objects.

“I’ll never sell it. Can you see why?” With loving grace Miriam ran her finger along the outline of the face.

The resemblance was amazing. “I certainly can! It could be your twin.”

Miriam looked suddenly toward the windows, her mind seemingly drawn to something outside. Dropping the conversation, she got up and went over to them. Sarah had conflicting impressions: Miriam had seemed delighted to see her at first, but all at once had apparently lost interest. Sarah began to want to get it over with. It was as if Miriam were waiting for somebody else. This place, so ruthlessly pleasant, began to contain the suggestion of nasty shadows.

“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Sarah announced in her most cheerful tone.

“You drink it. I had a cup before you came.”