Collis found a chair somehow and sat down. He felt as if he had been hit very hard with a spade handle. He put his hand up to his face and then back to his lap again. There were tears running down his face, and he didn’t even know it.

Hannah, dead: Hannah? He couldn’t believe it. And yet here it was, in a telegraph, and a letter would follow later. He turned his head towards Theodore, and he felt as if the whole bridal suite had become a blur of white satin, and pale sunlight, and pain.

‘Hannah’s dead,’ he said, not for Theodore’s benefit, but for his own.

Theodore came over and took the telegram out of his hand. He read it, and then said, ‘My God. Collis, I’m sorry.’

Collis shook his head. ‘I can’t believe it. It doesn’t even say why.’

Theodore laid his arm around Collis’s shoulders. ‘Do you want to go back to Sacramento? I can book you a steamer.’

‘There’s no point,’ said Collis. ‘It must have taken that letter a month to arrive in Washington, and it’s going to take me at least six weeks to get back to Sacramento. She’s been buried now, Theo, and a grave can wait.’

‘I see,’ said Theodore. ‘Well, I suppose that’s practical.’

‘Practical!’ shouted Collis hoarsely. ‘The only reason I don’t want to go back is that a grave is all there is. No Hannah. No wife. Just a mound in the local graveyard with a marker sticking out of it. Would you want to go back, if that was all that was left of Annie?’

‘Collis, I didn’t mean—’

‘I don’t know what the hell you meant!’ yelled Collis. ‘I don’t know and I don’t care! But it’s about time that someone told you that you don’t have exclusive rights on morality, or propriety, or human righteousness! It’s about time that someone told you that a dream like yours isn’t sacred! It’s more than sacred! It’s the actual stuff that this country is made of! Raw! and vital! And when you try to sanctify it, you take all of the guts out of it! The morality isn’t in the dream, Theo! The morality is in getting it done! This country needs a railroad to grow, and to keep its people alive, not to satisfy some snow-white vision that some clever engineer has been keeping inside of his head!’

‘I’m sorry,’ Theodore said, tight-lipped.

Collis, still full of steam, still full of annoyance and grief, said, ‘For Christ’s sake,’ and then found that he couldn’t say any more. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed — huge, agonising sobs that compressed his chest and hurt his throat. Theodore didn’t know what to do except stand beside him in silence.

A little while later, when his weeping had subsided, Collis took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. There was another knock at the door, and Theodore went to answer it.