When you board the bus, it is dark out. You are in New Hampshire. When you exit the bus, it is broad daylight. You are in New York. After dropping off your suitcase, you head toward the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and it occurs to you that you have stepped into the character of Claudia Kincaid in one of your favorite childhood books, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler . You just lack a younger brother with a card habit and pockets full of change. You take the B line north and you find that your past makes you strangely comfortable on the subway, and you silently thank your grandparents for the millionth time for that summer in London when you were fearless at thirteen and navigated your way through the underground on a daily basis. It has triumphed over your adult self full of uncertainty and fear. You are hustled up the stairs by the crush of crowds, and you find yourself curious about them. You hear snippets of conversations: "A hundred-thousand......