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experience.”
    â€œMy point exactly: She is an unknown. Therefore the Germans have no dossier on her.” He looked up. “Would you not agree, Seymour, that Sinclair might come straight about—with four days of Commando training at Achnacarry?”
    â€œ Achnacarry , sir?”
    Achnacarry Castle, in Scotland, had been turned over by Sir Donald Cameron to the Royal Navy: specifically, to Lord Louis Mountbatten, who was head of the Commandos. Up to now, females had been excluded. Hamilton would have to use his clout.
    Seymour said: “That might work at that, sir—if you can swing it. But it would be cutting it rather fine. I would like to see her get more time.”
    â€œThere is no time,” retorted Hamilton briskly. “As matters stand, Commodore Blackstone could cut the cards to other than our favor. Besides, I couldn’t very well object when he reminded me that some of our own pilots have had as little as nine hours flying experience.”
    â€œYes, sir. She will be air-dropped then?”
    â€œNot if I can help it.” Hamilton was firm. The Commander had looked to something new under the sun, his Lieutenant with him, and they had found it: in this hunter-child’s body, and in the unsearchable swift potentials of her mind. A Proteus, she inhabited this room where so many had come before, and through whose doors, so many had departed, and died. All of them were women, yet none of them were her.
    â€œTomorrow I will call Wren Sinclair myself and set the appointment. If selected, she will have to volunteer. This must be her decision, as well.”
    Seymour nodded.
    Hamilton, struggling, was tightening his tie. “Oh yes, one little item, hmmm? Should Parker contact you requesting the full pre-Mission Report for Blackstone, tell him the entire matter is in the hands of General LeClerc. By the time they get through that seawall of suspicion,” nice phrase, noted Seymour—“we should be off and sailing.”
    â€œYes, sir!”
    He would tend to it, on the run.
    â€œSir, if Commodore Blackstone calls—?”
    â€œTake care of it, will you?” Hamilton threw on his raincoat and was out the door. “And see to Loot’s transfer.”
    â€œGot it!”
    Her eye was on the bird.
    The same seagull, tired of garbage, who had checked her out the other day, sat atop the splintered pile at the end of Dockyard Row, peering into the water and trying to find some fish.
    She wondered how he was doing.
    Grasshopper Bay was awash with high swells surging over black rocks from the prows of the hospital ships that were coming in from Normandy, where blood was running into the sea. In listing the ships Valerie noticed that most of the LST’s and LSP’s that had been there the day before, had now departed. Lieutenant Carrington, who had business to attend to on some of the others, had told her not to expect him until the following morning. She was just about to lock the safe, where the TOP SECRET information was kept, when the telephone rang. Sinclair snatched it off the hook. “Lieutenant Carrington’s Office. Wren Sinclair here.”
    â€œIs Lieutenant Carrington there?” The voice sounded familiar.
    â€œNo, sir, not at the moment.”
    â€œGood. This is Commander Hamilton, from Southampton.” She could see it, behind the voice, giant shipyards bristling in sunlight a hundred and fifty miles up the coast. “I visited your office yesterday and was very impressed with the way you carried out your duties.”
    â€œThank you, sir. I am sorry, but Lieutenant Carrington is not in the office.”
    â€œJust as well,” said Hamilton, “it is you with whom I wish to speak. A matter of some urgency, you see. Listen carefully. Meet me tomorrow at 1300 hours where you usually take your lunch... Dorothy Cafe, yes, that’s it. Now, not even Carrington must know about this. I shall be wearing my uniform. A comer