"Excuse me, Danny," he said, "but aren't you supposed to be tending to your chores in the dormitory?"

Danny turned the full power of his big blue eyes on Bill.

"I want to stay here with Sara."

"I'm glad that you do, and I'm sure Sara wants you to stay as well, but we're in the middle of some grown-up work here and I'm sure there's some Danny work left to be done back in the dorm. So say good-bye and I'll see you later."

Danny turned back to Sara, who smiled and gave him a little hug.

"Nice talking to you, Danny."

Danny stared at her a moment, then walked—walked—out of the office.

As Bill stared after the boy in wonder, Sara turned to him.

"That's the'boy I want."

Bill shook off his amazement and focused on the young woman.

"He's seven. I thought you were interested in an under-five child."

"I thought I was too. But now after seeing Danny I've changed my mind."

Bill glanced at Herb.

"How do you feel about an older child?"

"What Sara wants, I want," he said with a shrug.

"And I want to adopt Danny Gordon."

"That's out of the question," Bill said abruptly.

The statement surprised him. He hadn't intended to say anything like it. The words just seemed to pop out of his mouth.

Herb Lom's expression was shocked; Sara appeared hurt.

"Why… why is that out of the question?" she said

"Because he's hyperactive," Bill said.

"He looked like a normally active boy to me. And he was charming."

"What you saw here was an aberration. Believe me, I have it on good authority from a number of specialists. Raising Danny will be a tremendously demanding full-time job."

"That's true of raising any child," she said, looking at him lev-elly. "And it's a job I'm qualified to do."

Bill would not argue with the first statement, and did not want to challenge the second. He tried an end run.

"Let me get out the pictures of the other boys we have here. If you look through them I'm sure you'll—"

Sara was on her feet, a determined set to her mouth.

"I'm not interested in any other boys. I'm only interested in Danny now." Her features softened. "I don't think it's very fair to let me meet such a lovely child and then tell me I'm not good enough for him."

"I said nothing of the sort."

"Then won't you please reconsider?"

Bill opted to buy himself some time.

"Very well. I'll think about it. But quite frankly, I do not think Danny should be anyone's first child."

"He won't be," she said with a sudden sunny smile. "I practically raised my three youngest brothers. And I want to raise Danny Gordon. And with your help I'm going to do just that."

So saying, she took her husband's arm and they strode from Bill's office.

"You should have seen him this afternoon, Nick," Bill said after Danny had rushed in and disrupted their weekly chess game again. "He was a totally different kid."

Nick Quinn's eyes followed the blur of motion around the room.

"I'll have to take your word for it."

"I kid you not. He shook hands with her and he suddenly became docile. If I believed in magic, that's what I'd say it was."

"I've heard of people who have that effect on animals."

Immediately Bill felt himself bristle within. "Danny's not an animal."

"Of course he's not. I was just drawing a parallel." He scrutinized Bill. "A little touchy, aren't we?"

"Not at all." Then he thought about it. He'd been on edge since the Loms had left. Why? "Well, maybe a little."

"Because someone might adopt him?"

Bill glanced at Nick. He'd grown to be a perceptive son of a B. True, Bill had been wondering whether the prospect of facing St. F.'s without Danny Gordon running around might influence his judgment, but…

"I don't think that's it, Nick. It's possible, of course. After two years with Danny I feel as if we have a blood relationship, and it will cost me a piece of my heart to see him go, but this feels different."

"You mean like it doesn't feel right?"

Very perceptive, that Nick.

"Yes. Maybe I do mean just that."

"Well, you did say you thought he had to go to an older couple. These two don't sound as if they fit that particular criterion."

"An older, experienced couple. They don't exactly fit that either."

"Then that's probably why it doesn't feel right."

"But Sara says she practically raised her brothers, and I believe her. That would give her credit in the experience column. And if Danny consistently responds to her the way he did this afternoon…"

"Then he wouldn't be exactly hyperactive anymore, although quite frankly I can't see anyone slowing that boy down for long."

"You had to be there."

Bill called Danny over and sat him on his lap.

"What did you think of that lady you met here today?"

Danny smiled. "She was nüüce."

"How did you feel when you were holding her hand?"

The smile'broadened as Danny's eyes got a dreamy, faraway look.

"Nüüce."

"Can you tell me anything more?"

"Nope!"

And then he was off and running again.

"I gather she was a nüüce lady," Nick said with a grin.

Bill shrugged. "Danny's new word. But I think I'm going to put those two together once more."

"To see if it happens again? Good move. Reproducibility is an indispensable factor in the scientific method."

"This is not an experiment, Nick."

Sometimes, though, Bill wished there were a scientific method for this adoption business. There were protocols and procedures, checks and evaluations and waiting periods, all sorts of safety measures and protections for both the child and the adoptive parents. Yet there had been plenty of times over the years when Bill had found himself operating on instinct, flying by the seat of his pants.

Some instinct within him warned against this match, but he suspected the feeling might be fueled by an emotional attachment to this particular child. Finding a good home for Danny, that was what really mattered. And if this woman had some special rapport with Danny, then he had no right to turn her away.

"I just want to see them together again. Maybe it was some kind of freak accident. But if it wasn't, if he responds to her that way again…"

"Then maybe you've found him a home. But if that comes about, I see another problem."

"I can let go. I've had to do it before." He'd let Nick go when the Quinns adopted him sixteen years ago. "I'll do it again."

"I had no doubts about that," Nick said, staring at Danny. "But you're going to have to find a way to get him to leave you."

Bill nodded. He'd already foreseen that problem. He figured he'd solve it when the time came.

Bill invited both the Loms back but Sara came alone—Herb was tied up at his office. She arrived the following Tuesday between school dismissal and the dinner hour.

"Have you reconsidered?" she asked brightly when she had seated herself in his office.

She was wearing a white and yellow flower-print sundress that deepened her already dark complexion. Bill wondered if there might be a little Mexican blood mixing with the Texan flowing in her veins.

"I'm in the process of doing so," Bill said, "but I'd like to get into specifics with you about your experience in raising your younger brothers."

They talked for about half an hour. Bill was impressed with Sara's easy familiarity with the ins and outs of child-rearing. But what came through more strongly than ever was her desire for a child, her need for one.

And then the inevitable occurred: Danny arrived.

He skidded to a halt when he saw her. A big smile, tiny white teeth—

"Hiya, Sara."

She seemed to glow at the mention of her name.

"You remembered!"

"'Course I did. I'm smart."

"I'll bet you are! What did you learn in school today?"