It was so eminently reasonable a solution that Sarah and her father gaped at her in astonishment Sarah suddenly realized she had done her mother a great injustice. She had judged her by the wrong standards and found her lacking when she wasn’t lacking at all. She was clever and intelligent, and although she abided by a set of social rules Sarah found ridiculous, Elizabeth Decker did have a mind of her own and knew how to use it. Had she been a man, she might have pursued a successful career in diplomacy, if her work here today was any indication of her abilities. Instead, she had managed to negotiate a peaceful settlement to a family matter. Sarah thought such a success almost equal to an international treaty, and to her, of much more importance.

Felix Decker said not a word to acknowledge his wife’s suggestion. To do so would have given her more importance than he felt she should have. As if he had thought of it himself, he said, “Sarah, our quarreling upsets your mother. It always has. And your absence from our lives has caused her great pain. I believe we should make every effort to spare her any further pain, even if that means allowing you to continue on the path you have chosen, however much I might disapprove. I am willing to agree not to discuss the subject further, unless, of course, you feel yourself in need of family support once more. In that case, you must not let pride prevent you from seeking help from your family. You must know we would be only too happy to provide you with anything you might need.”

Sarah knew that only too well, just as she knew she would never ask for such help, certainly not while she was able-bodied and of sound mind. His offer was condescending, to be sure, but coming from her father, also a near miracle of conciliation. She could not refuse it. “Thank you, Father. Our estrangement has caused me pain as well, and I’m perfectly willing to make concessions to ensure it doesn’t happen again. If that means I can’t argue with you anymore, then it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make, for Mother’s sake.”

It took a moment for them to realize she was joking. Her father frowned. He didn’t approve of levity, especially at his expense, but her mother visibly relaxed. With a satisfied smile, she reached for the serving plate. “Try one of these tarts, Sarah. Cook made them especially for you because I told her how fond you are of blueberries.”

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly enough. Her father made an effort not to offend her, and she returned the favor. They spoke of friends and relatives and generally caught up on each other’s lives.

Just before Sarah judged it time to take her leave, her mother said, “I’ve arranged a small dinner party to welcome Sarah back into our social circle, Felix. I had your secretary put it on your schedule.”

“And just who will be attending this dinner party?” her father asked, not certain he could approve of such a thing. Or perhaps he was concerned that it was too soon to draw Sarah back into their social circle or that she might refuse to be drawn. He would have no idea the dinner party was being held at her request, of course.

“I asked the Walkers. Sarah went to school with Amanda Walker. And the younger Vandekamps. She’s another classmate of Sarah’s. And the Millers. We’ll be an odd number, so I asked Hazel Miller’s brother, Dirk Schyler, as well, to be Sarah’s dinner companion.”

Her father didn’t approve. “Hardly an appropriate choice. Why not one of the Astors. Surely they have an unattached son about the right age.”

“You aren’t arranging a marriage for me, Father,” Sarah reminded him. “I just need a dinner companion, and I’ve known Dirk for a long time.”

“You haven’t known him lately. He hasn’t turned out well. His father despairs of ever making a man of him.”

This confirmed Sarah’s assessment of Dirk as well. She thought she could lower her father’s opinion of him even more by telling him about Dirk’s excursions to Coney Island, but then she’d have to explain how she knew about them. She’d just made peace with the man, so this wasn’t the moment to inform him she was investigating a murder in her spare time. Their truce hadn’t covered arguing over something like that.

“Perhaps he just needs to settle down,” Elizabeth Decker suggested. “A good woman can work wonders.” She glanced meaningfully at Sarah, who pretended not to notice.

“I doubt even Sarah is up to a task like that,” her father said.

For once they agreed on something.

FRANK HAD LOCATED THE NEW YORK INSTITUTION for the Deaf and Dumb without too much trouble. It was, he had learned, a much older school than the one on Lexington Avenue. This one had been here over sixty years. A long time, if they were doing something wrong, Frank thought cynically.

This school was as silent as the other had been. He entered the main office. The young man working there as a clerk looked up. “May I help you?” he asked, moving his hands quickly in a way Frank had never seen before. Frank realized this must be the sign language Mrs. Brandt had told him about.

“I’m not deaf,” Frank told him, unconsciously speaking too loudly.

“Neither am I,” the boy replied with a smile, still using his hands. Now Frank was certain it was sign language. “Do you have business with Mr. Peet?”

“Is he the one in charge?”

“Yes, sir. His father founded the school.”

“Then I guess I do have business with him.”

“I’ll see if he’s free,” the boy said, and disappeared into an inner office.

Frank didn’t quite know what to expect when he was ushered in to meet Lewis Peet. He was relieved to discover Mr. Peet wasn’t deaf, and he didn’t use his hands when he spoke, the way the boy had.

Frank told him about Brian, and he listened intently.

“I went to the Lexington Avenue School first,” he told Peet.

“An excellent facility,” he said tactfully.

“They said they could teach my son to speak.”

Mr. Peet nodded. “I’m sure they did. Did they introduce you to a student who could speech-read and talk?”

“Yes,” Frank said. “His voice was a little odd, but I could understand him. He could understand me, too. If my son could learn to do that, he would be able to make his way in the world.”

“But the boy you heard speaking wasn’t born deaf, was he?”

Frank frowned. How could he have known that? “No.”

Mr. Peet nodded again. “When someone is born deaf and has never heard human speech or sound of any kind, it’s very difficult for them to ever learn to speak clearly. It’s also difficult for them to understand the concept of language, because they have no language of their own.”

Frank wasn’t sure he understood all of this completely, but some of it sounded reasonable. “You do something different here at your school than they do at Lexington Avenue,” Frank said. “You teach them to talk with their hands.”

“Yes, we teach them sign language. You may have seen deaf people using it in the street.”

“The boy outside used it.”

“He always does, if he suspects he might be talking to a deaf person. Sign language is a unique method of communication. Many people assume the signs are letters of the alphabet, spelling out words, but if you think about it, you’ll realize that would be a cumbersome method, and very slow and boring to use for actual communication. Actually, the signs are words, motions representing what we in the hearing world hear as sounds. A skilled signer can speak as quickly as you and I can speak with our voices, and one who understands the signs can comprehend as easily as you understand what I’m saying right now.”

“But how do they talk to people who don’t know the signs?”

“Ah, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Peet said, sitting back in his chair and steepling his hands in front of him. “If we could get everyone in the hearing world to learn sign language, then deaf people could get along just like hearing people. Since that doesn’t seem likely to happen, what does happen is that the deaf develop their own society. They work at trades which don’t require hearing or speech, they marry other deaf people to whom they can speak easily with signs, and they socialize with other deaf people.”