" 'Along about April,' wrote Miss Warner at the end of that year, 'the X's began coming down from Los Alamos for dinner once a week, and they were followed by others.' After cooking all day, Miss Warner presided, wearing a simple shirtwaist dress and Indian moccasins. Everyone sat at one long, hand-carved wooden table set in the center of a dining room with whitewashed adobe walls and low-slung, hand-hewn beams. Miss Warner, aged fifty-one, served her 'hungry scientists' generous portions of home-cooked food. They ate ragout of lamb by candlelight off traditional Indian black ceramic plates and bowls, hand-coiled by the local potter, Maria Martinez. Afterwards, her guests huddled briefly together by the fireplace for warmth before making the long drive back up to the mesa. In return for this evening of candle-lit adobe ambience, Miss Warner charged her guests the token sum of $2 per head. She knew only that these mysterious people were working 'for some very secret project ...Santa Fe calls it a submarine base - as good a guess as any!' "