“Have you ever read Arrowsmith by Sinclair Lewis?”

“I don’t have much chance to read novels.”

“Maybe you should take the time,” Wortheim suggested scornfully. “It might make you rethink this decision before it’s irreversible.”

“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” Daniel said. “I think it is the right thing for me.”

“Would you like my opinion?”

“I think I know what your opinion is.”

“I think it’s going to be a disaster for both of us, but mainly for you.”

“Thank you for your words of encouragement,” Daniel said. He stood up. “See you around the campus.” Then he walked out.

5:15 P.M.

Washington, D.C.

“Thank you all for coming to see me,” Senator Ashley Butler said in his usual cordial, Southern drawl. With a smile plastered onto his doughy face, he glad-handed a group of eager-faced men and women who’d leapt to their feet the moment he burst into his small senate office conference room along with his chief of staff. The visitors were grouped around the central oak library table. They were representatives of a small business organization from the senator’s state capital who were lobbying for tax relief, or maybe it was insurance relief. The senator did not remember exactly, and it wasn’t on his schedule as it should have been. He made a mental note to bring the lapse up with his office manager. “I’m sorry I’m late coming in here,” he continued, after energetically pumping the last person’s hand. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you folks, and I wanted to get in here sooner, but it’s been one of those days.” He rolled his eyes for emphasis. “Unfortunately, because of the hour and another pressing engagement, I can’t stay. I’m sorry, but Mike here is great.”

The senator gave the staffer assigned to meet with the group an acknowledging slap on the shoulder, urging the young man forward until his thighs were pressed up against the table. “Mike’s the best I’ve got, and he’ll listen to your problems and then brief me. I’m sure we can help, and we want to help.”