My dear Juliana,
You force me yet again to withdraw. It is not over. Pray do not forget me.
It was Penelope who found her, whitefaced, rigid, and alone, huddled next to the sofa on the floor.
She took the crushed paper from her sister-in-law’s nerveless hand, smoothed it out-, and read it. She said nothing, merely helped Jules to her feet and drew her against her, hugging her.
Jules said, ‘God I wish I had my derringer.’
Penelope gently patted her back. ‘Why
A.r%O
don’t I purchase one for each of us?’ Jules could only stare at her.
‘Yes,’ Penelope said again. ‘I believe I shall go out now.’
And she did.
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27
There was not a sound that morning in Saint’s surgery. The small room was crowded. Thomas, Penelope, Jules, and Dr. Pickett all stood as still as stones, waiting. Thackery and Lydia were outside the open doorway in the entrance hall.
Jules could hear everyone else breathing. She was holding her own breath.
Dr. Pickett cleared his throat. ‘Saint?’ Saint said nothing for many moments. ‘Jules,’ he said finally, ‘is that a freckle I see on your nose?’
Jules stared at him, for the moment unable to accept his words. Then, at his slow smile, she flung herself into his arms, nearly knocking him backward. ‘Yes,’ she said against his shoulder, ‘it’s a freckle. I don’t know where it came from. I suppose I could use some lemon juice or something . . . ‘ She finally broke off, knowing she was babbling.
‘Or some cucumber lotion,’ Penelope said. ‘Or just let me kiss that very cute freckle,’ Saint said. He drew her back, stared down into the dearest face he’d ever seen, and lightly kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Hello, wife,’
A = /I
he said, stroking his fingertips over her face. ‘It’s quite nice to see you again.’
Thomas gave a loud shout and wrung Dr. Pickett’s hand.
‘It seems to me,’ Saint said after a moment., a mock frown furrowing his brow, ‘that a doctor’s surgery is the last place to expect such an excess of spirits.’
But nobody paid him any mind. He accepted handshakes, back slaps, with a big smile and his deep laugh. Jules saw his eyes glitter with pleasure, and she didn’t believe she’d ever seen him so happy. She sent a prayer of thanks heavenward, and eyed him hungrily.
‘Pen,’ Thomas said after a moment, ‘it’s time to get on with the excess of spirits. And Saint’s right – this surgery is too small for us.Y
‘Actually,’ Penelope said a few minutes later when they were all in the dining room, ‘my father insisted I bring over six bottles of his best champagne.’
‘Drunk as loons by noon,’ Dr. Pickett said, raising his filled glass a few minutes later in the dining room. ‘To the return of the most saintly man in San Francisco.’
‘And the biggest tale-bearer,’ Lydia said. ‘Could you rephrase that a bit, Lydia?’ Saint said. He looked around the table at all
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his friends. It was a heady thing, this looking and seeing, he thought. ‘Lord,’ he said, his voice deep with his feelings, ‘it’s good to see all of you again. Allow me to refill everyone’s glass. If I spill any, it won’t be because I’m not seeing straight.’
Jules looked at Thackery and was surprised to see tears in the black man’s eyes. He met her gaze and said with a crooked smile, ‘I never drank champagne before.’
‘Your wife, Thomas,’ Saint said as he refilled Penelope’s glass, ‘looks as content as a spring rose, and just as pretty. Is he a good husband to you, my dear?’
Penelope gulped, her cheeks flushing with Thomas’ laughing eyes on her. ‘He will improve,’ she said finally.
‘Every day,’Thomas said, ‘yes, indeed.’ ‘Saint,’ Lydia said, ‘I’ve baked you your favorite apple tarts. If we’re all not to be drunk under the table, I’d best serve them now.5
Three hours later., Saint, a bit tottery himself, was giving out advice for hangovers. But it was only the beginning. By evening it
seemed to Jules that everyone in San Francisco knew that Saint had regained his sight. The stream of visitors was continuous. The women brought food, the men liquor.