Dax said nothing.
"Come," Eleanor said. "Dinner is ready. We will eat, and I will ask Miss Cole a great many questions that she will answer with precisely the level of detail she chooses to provide, which I expect will be exactly what I need and not one word more." She looked at me. "Am I right?"
"Probably," I said.
The real smile appeared again. "Good. I like probably. Yes means overconfidence. No means lying. Probably means you're thinking."
She led us through to the dining room.
The dining room was long enough that the far end felt like it was in a different room. The table was set for three at one end — Eleanor at the head, Dax to her right, me to her left — with china that looked old enough to be an heirloom and crystal that caught the candlelight and scattered it.
The first cou
