Her mouth twitched. “Under certain conditions I will allow the filming of a documentary.”

John waited, trying to look interested but not particularly worried. It was the documentary that had caused the rift between the board of regents and their prize alumna to start with. They fantasized about film festivals and Oscars; Miss Zula had rejected the idea of a strange crew of discourteous men with cameras following her throughout her day.

She said, “I don’t like that Simmons fellow, and I won’t have him.”

“Film people are often single-minded, Miss Zula. I know you two got off to a bad start, but he’s won a great many—” He saw her expression and stopped.

“Prizes don’t impress me,” she said, holding herself very erect. “And neither do his films. Sentimental twaddle and overextended metaphors. And Louie didn’t like him.”

Louie raised his head and let out a single low bark of agreement.

From the purse that always hung from her right arm she drew out an envelope. “If the board will agree to hire the film company that made this documentary, then I will allow them the access they need.”

There were a hundred questions he might have asked, but he knew from experience that she would answer none of them.

“It’s called L&N 1915,” Miss Zula said.

“L&N. The old Louisville and Nashville Railroad?”

“Yes,” she said shortly.

“But—”

“I’m not here to tell you the story, John. Watch the documentary and you’ll understand why I want this particular film company.” She leaned forward. “I have done some research. I have consulted friends and colleagues who are knowledgeable.”

“And this documentary was recommended to you.”

“It was. In the highest terms. It is thorough and thoughtful and there’s a sharp edge to it that is missing in most of what I looked at.”

“Edge.” The word came out in a croak.

“Yes. I believe I can trust these people not to romanticize me. I won’t be presented to the world as a quaint old colored lady who scribbles. If the board will agree to this—and by that I mean, if they will offer reasonable terms to the film company—you may go ahead with your plans.”

John took the envelope she was holding out to him, and then he helped her to her feet.

“I’ll expect a call from you later today with the details. I want to see the contract you offer them before it’s made, and I would like it to happen quickly. If it is to happen at all.”

John looked down into the small face, the bright eyes, and saw a deep satisfaction there. Miss Zula might have lost five dollars to her sister today, but she had won some other wager, one she wasn’t telling him about. The real wager.

He said, “Gambling is your only vice, Miss Zula, but it does have a grip on you.”