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Schuyler.”
    Reed and Kate continued to regard her steadily, as though she might vanish if not held constantly in their gaze.
    “I have the job illegally. That is, I can do what I told them I can do, and I do it very well, but I’m not who they think I am. I borrowed the credentials from someone else, Social Security number, résumé, the lot. She’s retreated to Nova Scotia and couldn’tcare less. If they find out, I’ll say I stole everything. If they don’t—and I shall take jolly good care that they won’t—she’ll have a bit more Social Security than she might otherwise have had. Her name’s Harriet Furst, and that’s the name I use. Please call me Harriet.”
    “But you do run the secretarial room at Schuyler Law School?” Kate spoke as one peering through a fog.
    “Oh, dear, yes, and very well, too, if I may say so. If you have a little more of that excellent whisky, and don’t mind staying up awhile, I’ll tell you the truth about myself. Not all the truth, but as much as I dare, and I dare the more as I grow older. Montaigne.”
    Reed poured her more single-malt scotch, and sat back as though, like the wedding guest, he had been stopped and mesmerized by the Ancient Mariner.
    Harriet sipped her drink appreciatively. “Have you ever seen a catalpa tree drop its leaves?” she asked.
    Kate shook her head, while Reed continued in his mesmerized state. “I don’t even think I’ve seen a catalpa tree
with
its leaves,” Kate added, for something to say. The question was unusual, but then, everything about Harriet was unusual.
    “They drop them all at once—
boom
, like that—while you’re watching. People have often talked about seeing the last leaf fall from a tree, but that’s nothing, believe me, to the sight of a catalpa tree deciding winter has come.
    “Well, that’s how it was with me.
Boom
. All theleaves fell off, and so instead of bowing out gracefully and slowly, as one is supposed to do, I just decided to disappear. Like the catalpa leaves—all at once. No backward glances, no regrets, and no chance to hear from anyone. It was John le Carré who gave me the idea. One simply decides to become a spy. We’re all spies, of course, but some more than others.
    “By the way,” she said to Kate, “I know more about you than I let on at the Theban. I know you smoke—at least from time to time, though you’re trying to give it up—which is good news, because so do I. Do you mind if I smoke now; would you like one?” she said to Kate. Kate shook her head. “Too bad,” Harriet said. “I’m at the age where pleasure counts for more than safety; I’m only interested in a few more intense years anyway. I heard you also drink, imbibe caffeine, and consider animal fat essential to human endurance. That’s why I decided I’d be glad to meet you, even though I’d decided I’d have to meet you even if I wasn’t glad; but I’m glad I was glad.”
    Kate nodded. She thought of saying “I’m glad, too,” and then decided she wasn’t sure she was.
    “I’ve disappeared,” Harriet continued. “Vanished, unable to be found, gone. Registered as a missing person, but not likely to make it off the back list. I figured if le Carré’s characters could just disappear, melt into the scene, remain unnoticed, so could I. Did you read
The Russia House
? The Smiley books are the best, but once Alec Guinness played Smiley, he didn’t seem to belong to le Carré anymore. Understandable,of course. In le Carré’s books chaps just disappear, sometimes twice. I decided to disappear, too. I’m a big le Carré fan; I know he’s a lost cause when it comes to women, but at least he’s not Norman Mailer. Anyway, I decided to become a spy. Oh, not for government; crooks and bastards, the lot of them. But a modern spy. And I decided to spy at the Schuyler Law School.”
    “Why did you decide to be a spy at all?” Kate asked.
    “Because I thought I’d be damn good at it. There’s nothing like an