Babe Lee grabbed his arm with both hands, as if afraid someone was going to steal him. “You’re a hero, George,” she said.

At that moment George realized what he had to say. “Mr. Marquand, Miss Lee, I work for Bobby Kennedy now, and he would like to talk to you for a few minutes about civil rights. May I take you to him?”

“Of course,” said Percy, and a few seconds later they were out of the room.

George regretted his words immediately. His heart thumped as he walked them to the West Wing. How was Bobby going to take this? He might say Hell, no, I don’t have time. If an embarrassing incident resulted, George would be to blame. Why had he not kept his mouth shut?

“I had lunch with Verena,” he said, making small talk.

Babe Lee said: “She loves her job in Atlanta. The Southern Christian Leadership Conference has a small headquarters organization, but they’re doing great things.”

Percy said: “Dr. King is a great man. Of all the civil rights leaders I’ve met, he’s the most impressive.”

They reached the Cabinet Room and went in. The half-dozen men there were sitting at one end of the long table, chatting, some smoking. They looked in surprise at the newcomers. George located Bobby and watched his face. He looked puzzled and irritated. George said: “Bobby, you know Percy Marquand and Babe Lee. They would be happy to talk to us about civil rights for a few minutes.”

For a moment Bobby’s face darkened with rage. George realized this was the second time today he had surprised his boss with an uninvited guest. Then Bobby smiled. “What a privilege!” he said. “Sit down, folks, and thank you for supporting my brother’s election campaign.”

George was relieved, for the moment. There would be no embarrassment. Bobby had switched to automatic charm. He asked Percy and Babe their views, and talked candidly about the difficulties the Kennedys were having with Southern Democrats in Congress. The guests were flattered.

A few minutes later the president came in. He shook hands with Percy and Babe, then asked Dave Powers to take them back to the party.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Bobby rounded on George. “Never do that to me again!” he said. His face showed the strength of his pent-up fury.

George saw Dennis Wilson smother a grin.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Bobby stormed.

George thought Bobby was going to hit him. He balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to dodge a blow. He said desperately: “The president wanted them out of the room! He didn’t want to be photographed with Percy and Babe.”

Bobby looked at his brother, who nodded.

George said: “I had thirty seconds to think of a pretext that wouldn’t insult them. I told them you wanted to meet them. And it worked, didn’t it? They’re not offended—in fact they think they got VIP treatment!”

The president said: “It’s true, Bob. George here got us out of a tight situation.”