“It is not Janetta,” he sobbed.
“Of course it is.”
“Don’t be silly, man.”
“This is my daughter!”
“Not Janetta,” he repeated. “No. No. This person is older.”
“She would be,” cried Geraldria. “She would be older, Shevlok.”
“And not the same. Not the same.”
Who could argue that? This creature was not the same as anyone. It turned to examine them with its odd, goose-eyed gaze, circling, as though to see if anyone had anything to interest it, some grain, perhaps, some bread. The moist, pink mouth opened. “Hnnngah,” it cried, like a kitten. “Hnnngah.”
Now there were quieter voices asking Eugenie again where she had found the girl, how long she had had the girl. Now there was movement among the bon Maukerdens, Obermun and Obermum, sisters and cousins, brothers and nephews.
Vince bon Maukerden, hotheaded, poised before Rigo. “No matter when she vanished. It was here she turned up, like that! How do we know it was not you who did it to her?”
“You,” hissed Gustave from nearby, “who have not even the courage to ride with us. It is the kind of thing afragraswould do.”
“For what reason?” asked Marjorie in a loud, mild tone. “It is simple enough to learn the truth. Ask the people in Commoner Town.”
“Commoners!” sneered Gustave, “They have no honor. They would lie!”
And then movement of the crowd as they bore the strange girl away.
Some went then. Shevlok. The bon Maukerdens. Gustave and his Obermum. Others stayed. Of those who stayed, it was the bon Damfels who stayed longest, who went over and over the story Eugenie had to tell. Sylvan, particularly, who asked again and again, “Did she say anything, Madame Le Fevre? Ever? Any word? Are you sure?” To which Eugenie could only shake her head no, and no, and no. Pet had never said anything at all.
It was only later that Marjorie realized why Sylvan had been so intent. Dimity bon Damfels had vanished in the hunt as Janetta bon Maukerden had vanished. If Janetta had emerged in this fashion, might not Dimity still be found alive, somewhere, somehow?
Though there were no physicians among the bons, there were doctors in Commons. None of the aristos had ever lowered themselves to study the professions, but no such pride had prevented various commoners from flying off to Semling for a few years, returning with extensive educations. There were also no architects or engineers of any kind among the bons, but most kinds of technical expertise could be found in Commons. So it was from Commons that Lees Bergrem came to examine Janetta bon Maukerden—Dr. Lees Bergrem, head of the hospital.
A maidservant saw it all, heard it all, told a brother who told someone else who told Roald Few.
And Roald told Marjorie. “Dr. Bergrem put a thing on her head, to measure what was going on in her brain. And there was nothing, no more than a chicken.”
“Will she be able to learn again?”
“Dr. Bergrem doesn’t know, Lady. It seems so, for Miss Eugenie had taught her to dance, you know? Taught her to hum a song, too. It seems she will be able to learn. Dr. Bergrem wanted to take her back to the hospital, but Geraldria bon Maukerden wouldn’t hear of it. Foolish, that woman. Dr. Bergrem studied on Semling, she did. And on Repentance, too. She’s written books about her discoveries here on Grass. There’s those who’ve been through here who say she knows more than many doctors, even those back on Terra.”
Marjorie, ever mindful of her duty to learn everything possible about Grass, ordered copies of Dr. Bergrem’s books to be facsimile transmitted from Semling Prime.
The tell-me hummed with the story, Janetta bon Maukerden, found alive. Of all those who had vanished over the years, she was the first to be found alive. First and only, and yet what hope this sparked among certain aristocratic parents and lovers and friends. Rowena bon Damfels came to call, alone.
“You must not tell Stavenger I was here,” she said, whispering, her face swollen with fear and grief “He and Gustave have spent hours on the tell-me. bellowing to one another. He forbade me to come.”