He'd been scrupulous, over the years, to use different names. Even today, he doubted more than a handful suspected who he really was. So it would be Mr. Lorrimer. Mr. Freidkin. Mr. Samuels. Montcalm. So many others, one every ten to fifteen years, on average. He wasn't even sure which one she'd know. If she knew any.

The upside, of course, is that he thought this process might take days.

But he inclined his head, very slightly, in acknowledgement.

"I think you'll find we all are, Ms.McNiven."