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What he saw there horrified and saddened him. Wilson looked dreadful. He could hardly breathe and had developed a facial twitch. Even so, he wanted to carry on; but Grayson was adamant that he call off the remainder of the tour, and in the end Wilson gave in.
Next morning Gus, with a heavy heart, told the press that the president had suffered a severe nervous attack, and the tracks were cleared to speed the 1,700-mile journey back to Washington. All presidential engagements were canceled for two weeks, notably a meeting with pro-treaty senators to plan the fight for confirmation.
That evening, Gus and Rosa sat in her compartment, disconsolately looking out of the window. People gathered at every station to watch the president go by. The sun went down, but still the crowds stood and stared in the twilight. Gus was reminded of the train from Brest to Paris, and the silent multitude that had stood beside the tracks in the middle of the night. It was less than a year ago, but already their hopes had been dashed. "We did our best," Gus said. "But we failed. "
"Are you sure?"
"When the president was campaigning full-time, it was touch and go. With Wilson sick, the chance of the treaty being ratified by the Senate is zero. "
Rosa took his hand. "I'm sorry," she said. "For you, for me, for the world. " She paused, then said: "What will you do?"
"I'd like to join a Washington law firm specializing in international law. I've got some relevant experience, after all. "
"I should think they'll be lining up to offer you a job. And perhaps some future president will want your help. "
He smiled. Sometimes she had an unrealistically high opinion of him. "And what about you?"
"I love what I'm doing. I hope I can carry on covering the White House. "
"Would you like to have children?"
"Yes!"
"So would I. " Gus stared meditatively out of the window. "I just hope Wilson is wrong about them. "
"About our children?" She heard the note of solemnity in his tone, and she asked in a frightened voice: "What do you mean?"
"He says they will have to fight another world war. "
"God forbid," Rosa said fervently.
Outside, night was falling.
Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE - January 1920
Daisy sat at the table in the dining room of the Vyalov family's prairie house in Buffalo. She wore a pink dress. The large linen napkin tied around her neck swamped her. She was almost four years old, and Lev adored her.
"I'm going to make the world's biggest sandwich," he said, and she giggled. He cut two pieces of toast half an inch square, buttered them carefully, added a tiny portion of the scrambled eggs Daisy did not want to eat, and put the slices together. "It has to have one grain of salt," he said. He poured salt from the cellar onto his plate, then delicately picked up a single grain on the tip of his finger and put it on the sandwich. "Now I can eat it!" he said.
"I want it," said Daisy.
"Really? But isn't it a Daddy-size sandwich?"
"No!" she said, laughing. "It's a girl-size sandwich!"
"Oh, all right," he said, and popped it into her mouth. "You don't want another one, do you?"
"Yes. "
"But that one was so big. "
"No, it wasn't!"
"Okay, I guess I have to make another one. "
Lev was riding high. Things were even better than he had told Grigori ten months ago when they had sat in Trotsky's train. He was living in great comfort in his father-in-law's house. He managed three Vyalov nightclubs, getting a good salary plus extras such as kickbacks from suppliers. He had installed Marga in a fancy apartment and he saw her most days. She had got pregnant within a week of his return, and she had just given birth to a boy, whom they had named Gregory. Lev had succeeded in keeping the whole thing secret.
