“I know. Your amateur courtroom is one of the most popular, and the pros never overturn your decisions.”

Gustaf shrugged.

“So the question is, did my ancestors bestow something unusual upon me? Or is it all coincidence? It’s an interesting topic for speculation, though it doesn’t really matter all that much.”

Farrell Cooper came up alongside. He nodded quickly at Hamilton, then spoke to his club leader.

“Your Grace, we are behind schedule. If it pleases you, may we mount so the vanguard doesn’t get too far ahead of us?”

Hamilton smiled. He’d had plenty of time to get used to Cooper’s fixation. Gustaf caught his eye with a wink.

“We’ll talk more later, Hamilton. I hope to have a chance to tell you how much I’ve been edified by your micro-sociological treatise on the Bath and Garter.”

Hamilton felt himself blushing. It was an involuntary reaction, and he hurried to cover it up.

“One last question, Dr. Gustaf, before you go.” Hamilton motioned to the crowd. “How do you account for this outpouring of feeling toward you and your club, here in Orleans and in the other towns you’ve visited during this tour?”

Gustaf frowned.

“You’re the sociologist, Hamilton…”

“Just guess, please. I’d like your gut feeling.”

Gustaf knitted his brow. He glanced at the people who lined the sidewalks, craning for a better view, waving when his glance came their way. He looked seriously at Hamilton.

“I’d say it’s because they are lonely, bored, and cut loose from their past. Personally, I find it unfortunate that society hasn’t found a way to fill this need. Not everyone is as happy with the Total Social State as you and I. But then perhaps you’ll be the one to figure out this social dynamic, hmmm?”