Mawhinney’s face changed and he waved across the restaurant. George glanced back over his own shoulder and got a shock.

The person Mawhinney was waving at was Maria Summers.

She did not see him. She was already turning back to her companion, a white girl of about the same age.

“Is that Maria Summers?” he said incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“You know her.”

“Sure. We were at Chicago Law together.”

“What’s she doing in Washington?”

“Funny story. She was originally turned down for a job in the White House press office. Then the person they appointed didn’t work out, and she was the second choice.”

George was thrilled. Maria was in Washington—permanently! He made up his mind to speak to her before leaving the restaurant.

It occurred to him that he might find out more about her from Mawhinney. “Did you date her at law school?”

“No. She only went out with colored guys, and not many of them. She was known as an iceberg.”

George did not take that remark at face value. Any girl who said no was an iceberg, to some men. “Did she have anyone special?”

“There was one guy she was seeing for about a year, but he dumped her because she wouldn’t put out.”

“I’m not surprised,” George said. “She comes from a strict family.”

“How do you know that?”

“We were on the first Freedom Ride together. I talked to her a bit.”

“She’s pretty.”

“That’s the truth.”

They got the check and split it. On the way out George stopped at Maria’s table. “Welcome to Washington,” he said.

She smiled warmly. “Hello, George. I’ve been wondering how soon I’d run into you.”

Larry said: “Hi, Maria. I was just telling George how you were known as an iceberg at Chicago Law.” Larry laughed.

It was a typical male jibe, nothing unusual, but Maria flushed.

Larry walked out of the restaurant, but George stayed behind. “I’m sorry he said that, Maria. And I’m embarrassed that I heard it. It was really crass.”

“Thank you.” She gestured toward the other woman. “This is Antonia Capel. She’s a lawyer, too.”

Antonia was a thin, intense woman with hair severely drawn back. “Good to know you,” George said.

Maria said to Antonia: “George got a broken arm protecting me from an Alabama segregationist with a crowbar.”

Antonia was impressed. “George, you’re a real gentleman,” she said.

George saw that the girls were ready to leave: their check was on the table in a saucer, covered with a few bills. He said to Maria: “Can I walk you back to the White House?”

“Sure,” she said.

Antonia said: “I have to run to the drugstore.”

They stepped out into the mild air of a Washington autumn. Antonia waved good-bye. George and Maria headed for the White House.

George studied her out of the corner of his eye as they crossed Pennsylvania Avenue. She wore a smart black raincoat over a white turtleneck, clothing for a serious political operator, but she could not cover up her warm smile. She was pretty, with a small nose and chin, and her big brown eyes and soft lips were sexy.