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But Catherine’s eyes, over the rim of her cup, were not only sharp—they were arch. “I don’t know exactly what it pays,” he said cautiously. “But I’m sure the money’s good.” “How good?” “Good.” “How good?” she asked, taking a drag from her cigarette, chasing it with a sip of tea. “I don’t know exactly. But that’s not the point, Catherine. The point is that I’ll be working with the greatest thinkers in the world. The greatest thinkers in the world.” “The greatest thinkers in Princeton, you mean.” “No, no, no. They’ll be coming from all over. Chicago, Berkeley, maybe even—” “Coming to Princeton?” He blinked. “Not coming to Princeton?” she said. He shook his head. “Coming where?” she asked. “Well … Albuquerque.” “Albuquerque?” “New Mexico.” “We’re going to New Mexico?” “That depends,” he said. “Some of the boys are bringing their wives. But some of them …” He left the thought unfinished. A ridge of concentration appeared between her eyes. That ridge, even after nearly eight years of marriage, mystified Richard Carter. The things Catherine said, after getting that ridge between her eyes, invariably came as a surprise to him. When Catherine had first arrived in Princeton nine years before, she had

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A Gathering of Spies - Excerpt  

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