She took W.F. from off her lap and replaced it in its box. She then put envelope and box into her bag and climbed down from the tree. The policeman and boy were gone. She walked very briskly up and down in front of the tree three times, and then went to sit in a little unmarked Thai bistro that took up all three floors of a brownstone on a nearby street. There was nothing on the exterior of the restaurant to let anyone know that such a fine and splendid establishment was within. Luckily, enough people knew about it that its existence was not in jeopardy. She took a seat near the back. After a moment a waitress appeared. This waitress crossed the floor slowly, not looking at Sif. At the last moment, it was as though she looked up into Sif’s face. She shouted out, SIF! and, untying her apron, pulled a chair up beside her. —Dear Sif, she said. How nice of you to come. —Shall we exchange confidences? asked Sif. —Let’s, said the girl. Her name was Claude, just like the Maude. —He gave me the W.F., said Sif.
