They waited most of September at the Bishop’s gate. Then Philip said, “I’ve long wanted to speak with you.” He seemed happy to see Margery, happier to see John. Philip held a yellow apple. Margery asked if, after he had eaten, they could speak for a few hours about Jesus.

Philip lifted his hands and face in wild speculation. “You can talk for two hours about Jesus? I won’t be able to eat a thing till I hear what you say!” He concluded the sentence but sustained his gesture like a mannequin, both hands raised towards Margery. Philip had a square Irish face, a beaky nose, and he spoke with such exaggerated courtesy Margery wondered if he was ridiculing her, or the idea of manners.

A sliver of peel wedged itself between Philip’s molar and gum. He couldn’t get it out with his finger; the tip of his dagger released the coppery taste of blood. John wore a short velvet robe with open sleeves; he sat with his ankles crossed delicately and his enormous chest curved over his lap. Margery told Philip the secrets of the living and dead. “You should write a book,” he enthused. He listened with a spellbound smile though Margery could see it was John who enchanted him—John’s powerful sweetness and gravity.

John knelt, gazing without reserve into Philip’s eyes, and put his hands between Philip’s in a vow of chastity. John said, “May her body be as open to Jesus as it was to me.”

•

Another day Margery went to dinner at the Bishop’s palace. Her fingertips skimmed the handrail; her jaw dropped in wonder as she floated gently upwards without touching the treads. Philip wore a musty ocelot vest; he distributed thirteen pence and thirteen loaves to thirteen poor men on their grateful knees in a semicircle. Jesus handed Margery some bunched-up paper. She opened it and found only trash inside. He gloated like a tomboy who’d won a bet. Horror of the unexpected amplified her tears. Margery wept so hard that the Bishop’s household’s foreheads wrinkled in disbelief.

She sat with clerks, priests, and squires, and ate chicken broth thickened with pounded almonds and flavored with cloves, coriander, and thyme; black pudding and sausage; lampreys and herring; meat potages; and tiny local shrimp whose flavor was surprisingly full bodied. From the high table, the Bishop sent her wine and roasted mutton sauced with raisins and nuts and served with quince preserves.

Philip was so sociable that when his face relaxed it grinned. His judgment was based on how much fun he was having because society was falling apart, but his clerks grilled Margery. They were amazed she answered so well. She loved to be examined and ratified.

After dinner Margery said, “I am commanded to tell you to clothe me all in white.”

Philip hesitated. “First prove yourself and become recognized.”