“And I want to ask each of you—even those who may not have supported his administration—to promise that, in his memory, you will give a little of yourself. This country doesn’t need grieving. It only needs its citizens—especially its young people—to share themselves with the public good. Bob always enjoyed talking to young people.”

Her voice cracked.

“‘They’re more idealistic than we give them credit for,’ he said to me. I know he was right, and I hope all of you will show that he was, and join me in fulfilling that promise.”

Join me? There it was again. How close could she get? Addis wondered.

“So today another President is here to talk about other things. He and Sally have been so supportive of Jack and me. I cannot thank them enough. Our new President has been called to lead our nation in a difficult time. Please keep him in your prayers in the days ahead. Thank you.”

Days, she said. Not weeks, months, or years.

One more standing ovation. It ended when Margaret sat down. The student body president returned to the microphone.

“The President of the United States,” he said. “Samuel Mumfries.”

Mumfries strode toward the podium. The students rose to their feet again. But it was clear: the applause was less enthusiastic. The staff in the bleachers looked at each other. Kelly slapped his hand against his leg. The audience quickly settled down. Fifteen seconds, Addis estimated to himself.

“Amazing,” O’Connor said.

Mumfries took a drink from the glass of water on the podium.

“I just want to thank you all for that heartwarming welcome you gave to Mrs. Hanover,” he said. “She bears a burden that few of us will ever know. I thank her for the support she has given me this past week. And I do hope she will continue to provide us with her valuable counsel. This nation owes her a debt that never can be repaid.”

Nice job, Addis thought.

Mumfries’s speech was predictable. “The sign of a great nation,” he said, “is how it bears adversity.” There were quotes from the Bible—both Old and New Testament. He referred to a passage from Profiles in Courage. He commended to a new generation the most famous line ever uttered by Franklin Delano Roosevelt: “We have nothing to fear …” Nothing about the assassination investigation. Nothing about policy. Nothing about Mumfries’s political intentions. Nothing that galvanized the hall. At the end of the speech, Mumfries received a respectful standing ovation, more obligatory than charged. Addis could envision the network reports this evening. The story would not be Hanover’s attempt to comfort and motivate a nation but a packed auditorium embracing the grieving widow. Emotion trumps content—especially when content’s so thin.

Mumfries was shaking hands with college officials and top faculty members. Grayton was by his side. The White House staff filed out of the bleachers. Addis passed Kelly.