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as were many others.” He met her eyes with his own steady gaze. “These things change, with time.”
    “You’re an”—she tried to choose a more polite term, but could not—“exile?”
    “For most of my life,” he said.
    “I’m so sorry,” she responded. “No wonder you understand my situation.” As soon as she said it, she flushed with embarrassment. “I wish I could say something more comforting.”
    “You need not,” he answered. “I’m used to it.” He shrugged and changed the subject. “Shall I let you know when I plan to arrive in Paris?”
    She nodded. “If you would, please.”
    “If you will provide an address to Rogers before you leave? Thank you.” He rose. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Professor Treat. I must thank you for coming to Eclipse Press before seeking out another publisher.” He saw the astonished look in her eyes. “Well, you have not been in Europe very long, so what should I think than that Eclipse was your first choice?” With a half-bow, he took a step away. “I am sorry, but I must leave. Do finish your coffee. Zoltan will drive you back to your hotel whenever you like.”
    She watched him cross the entry-hall and vanish down a corridor on the far side of it. She sighed, trying to decide if she had succeeded or failed in this most perplexing interview. She wished she knew what to make of Grof Szent-Germain, and almost at once frowned as she strove to come up with a description she could offer to Harold when they spoke that evening. Twenty minutes later, as she left Eclipse Publishing, she had convinced herself that the less she said, the better it would be.

 
    TEXT OF A LETTER FROM BETTY-ANN PARKER IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA, TO HER COUSIN, MOIRA FROST, IN PARIS, FRANCE, SENT AIR MAIL, DELIVERED THREE DAYS LATER.
    October 19, 1949
    Dear Cousin Moira,
    Uncle Howard asked me to send you news of the family, so I’m doing it. He’s afraid his mail’s being opened, and he doesn’t want to expose you and Tim to any more trouble than you’re already in. We’ve heard that the CIA is after you. Uncle Howard told me to ask you again if you wanted to send Regina to him and Aunt Clarise. He’s worried about her schooling, you know, and says that he will be glad to act as her guardian as long as you and Tim are away. Uncle Howard says he’s still trying to find a lawyer who’ll take your case for something less than a ten-thousand-dollar fee. Who has ten thousand dollars they can spare? No luck so far, but he’s going to keep looking. He wants the family to kick in something to help you and your family out. It doesn’t seem fair that you have to stay in Europe just because you can’t get a good lawyer. If criminals can do it, you should be able to, shouldn’t you? It’s not like you robbed a bank.
    The Thanksgiving’s going to be at Uncle Frederick’s this year, in Raleigh. He remarried last August as you should know, and he’s eager to have the family meet Alexis, get to know her. Mom tells me that she doesn’t know if we should attend, given the uproar there’s been about their marriage, Alexis being a Catholic and all. I think she’s being too fussy, but several of the family members share her feelings. Uncle Clay has already said he and Doreen can’t make it, and Uncle Frederick thinks this means that Uncle Clay doesn’t approve of his new wife. There’s an uproar in the making. I’ll tell you how it turns out.
    I made the swim-team at last; I’ll be competing in the butterfly. They’re starting girls’ swim meets with some of the other high schools in the district, and I volunteered for them. They took me! Ward Springer High School has had a new pool built and they’re upgrading the main building and adding a real auditorium, which means for now, half our classes are in trailers. The new buildings should be ready by the time I graduate. Everyone says it’s worth it, but it feels strange to go to school in a trailer. I’m taking Math