Chapter 75

           Shewastenminuteslate;camequicklythroughtheturnstiles,apolitesmalltormentofapologyonherface,andstraighttowhereIhadbeenstandingnexttothepostcardcounter."Ohdear.I’msosorry.Thetaxicrawled."Ishookheroutstretchedhand.Forawomanhalfacenturyoldshewasimpressivelygood-looking;andshewasdressedwithaneasyflairthatmademostofthedullafternoonvisitorstotheVictoriaandAlbertarounduslookevendrabberthantheyreallywere;defiantlybareheaded,andinapalegray-whiteChanelsuitthatsetoffhertanandhercleareyes."It’samadplacetomeet.Doyoumind?""Notintheleast.""Iboughtaneighteenth-centuryplatetheotherday.They’resogoodatidentifyinghere."Itookthebasketshewascarrying."Itwon’ttakeamoment."Sheevidentlyknewthemuseumwellandledthewaytothelifts.Wehadtowait.Shesmiledatme;thefamilysmile;soliciting,Isuspected,whatIwasstillnotpreparedtogive.Determinedtotreaddelicatelybetweenherapprovalandmyowndignity,Ihadadozenthingsreadytosay,butherbreathlessarrival,thesuddenfeelingIhadthatIwasbeingfitted,inconveniently,intoabusyday,madethemallseemwrong.Isaid,"IsawJohnBriggsonTuesday.""Howinteresting.Ihaven’tmethim."Wemighthavebeentalkingaboutthenewcurate.Theliftcame,andwesteppedinside."ItoldhimeverythingIknew.AllaboutBouraniandwhattoexpect.""Wethoughtyouwould.Thatiswhywesenthimtoyou."Wewerebothsmilingfaintly;acrampedsilence."ButImighthave.""Yes.

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