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"Our pleasure. Please come back and visit us. I love to talk trains."
Pitt hesitated. "There is one thing you might keep in mind."
"What's that?"
"A funny thing about legends," Pitt said, searching Magee's eyes. "They're usually born from a truth."
In the light from the house, the kindly face was somber and thoughtful, no more. Then Magee shrugged noncommittally and closed the door.
Danielle Sarveux warmly greeted Premier Jules Guerrier of Quebec Province in the corridor of the hospital. He was accompanied by his secretary and Henri Villon.
Guerrier kissed Danielle lightly on both cheeks. He was in his late seventies, tall and slender with unkept silver hair and thick tangled beard. He could have easily accommodated an artist's conception of Moses.
As Premier of Quebec he was also the leader of the French-speaking Parti Quebecois. "How marvelous to see you, Jules," said Danielle.
"Better for old eyes to behold a beautiful woman," he answered gallantly. "Charles is looking forward to seeing you."
"How is he getting along?"
"The doctors say he is doing fine. But the healing process will take a long time."
Sarveux was propped up by pillows, his bed parked beside a large window with a view of the Parliament building. A nurse took their hats and coats, and then they grouped around the bed on a chair and sofa. Danielle poured a round of cognac.
"I'm allowed to serve a drink to my visitors," said Sarveux. "But unfortunately alcohol won't mix with my medication so I can't join you."
"To your speedy recovery," toasted Guerrier.
"A speedy recovery," the others responded.
Guerrier set his glass on an end table. "I'm honored that you asked to see me, Charles."
Sarveux looked at him seriously. "I've just been informed you're calling a referendum for total independence."
Guerrier gave a Gallic shrug. "The time is long overdue for a final break from the confederation."
"I agree, and I intend to give it my full endorsement."
Sarveux's statement fell like a guillotine blade.
Guerrier visibly tensed. "You'll not fight it this time?"
"No, I want to see it done and over with."
"I've known you too long, Charles, not to suspect an ulterior motive behind your sudden benevolence."
"You misread me, Jules. I'm not rolling over like a trained dog. If Quebec wants to go it alone, then let it be. Your referendums, your mandates, your incessant negotiations. That's in the past. Canada has suffered enough. The confederation no longer needs Quebec. We will survive without you."
"And we without you."
Sarveux smiled sardonically. "We'll see how you do starting from scratch."
"We expect to do just that," said Guerrier. "Quebec Parliament will be closed and a new government installed. One patterned after the French republic. We will write our own laws, collect our own taxes, and establish formal relations with foreign powers. Naturally, we'll maintain a common currency and other economic ties with the English-speaking provinces."
"You'll not get your cake and eat it too," said Sarveux, his voice hard. "Quebec must print its own money, and any trade agreements must be renegotiated. Also, customs inspection stations will be erected along our common borders. All Canadian institutions and government offices will be withdrawn from Quebec sod."
A look of anger crossed Guerrier's face. "Those are harsh actions."
"Once Quebeckers have turned their backs on the political freedoms, wealth and future of a united Canada, the severance must be unconditional and complete."
