"It was even worse with Dukakis. He was ahead in the polls when all of a sudden word started to circulate that he had been treated for depression. Rumor. Pure unsubstantiated rumor. But the result was a dramatic shift in the polls, and that scene in the tank notwithstanding, he could never catch up."

"I understand what you're saying."

"If word gets out about these episodes of the president's, all the king's horses and all the king's men aren't going to be able to help us. And the most important thing, as Carol said, is that in between episodes, he's as sharp and in command as ever."

At that instant, as if on cue, Andrew Stoddard's eyes fluttered open. He looked to his left at his wife and chief of staff, then to his right at Gabe.

"Dr. Singleton, I presume," he said, sweeping his tongue across his parched lips.

"Hey there. Welcome to our world."

"This doesn't look good. Another episode?"

Gabe nodded.

"Honey," Carol said, "are you okay?"

"Doin' fine. Doin' fine. A little bit of a throbbing up here in my temples, but otherwise I feel great. I confess, though, that seeing the doc here like this is a little disconcerting—especially when he's supposed to be having dinner and Botswana flag cake with Calvyn Berriman."

"Do you remember anything about what happened?" Gabe asked.

"Not really. I vaguely remember not feeling well. Mostly in my stomach. Why? Did I insult someone we're supposed to be friends with?"

"No, nothing like that," Carol said. "We're just glad you're okay. Honey, Gabe's really upset that we didn't—"

"Carol, I can do this myself," Gabe said, with more snap to his voice than he had intended.

He looked from Carol to Lattimore and back, and considered whether or not to send the two of them out of the room so he could speak to his patient in private. Finally, though, he pulled a brocade chair over next to Stoddard, who had pushed himself up on one elbow.

"Drew, have you been totally aware of these episodes all along?"

"I have . . . except when I'm having them, of course."

"But you chose not to tell me about them before I agreed to come to Washington to care for you."

"That may have been a mistake."

"Drew, I appreciate your owning this, and not deluging me—at least not up front—with rationalizations for why you chose to keep me in the dark. And I understand why you and Carol and Magnus might have chosen that course. But it was a mistake. It was a lie. I know, I know, omission of something isn't technically a lie. But where I come from we don't draw that line."