Sustenance Read Online Free PDF Page B

continued on for more than a generation through two additional, less catastrophic epidemics, and in the end he had gone to Delhi to avoid the ruin in Europe. “The Black Plague was … harrowing,” he added. “So few survived.”
    “But I touch only a little on the Plague itself,” she said, a bit defensively.
    Szent-Germain’s laughter was more sad than mirthful. “But focusing on the communes: no wonder you couldn’t find a publisher in America for such a book in these times.”
    “Exactly,” she said, relaxing a bit when he said nothing more. “The Dean of the History Department advised me to burn the master copy and my notes, then refused to consider any paper I submitted for his opinion. The Dean of the Anthropology Department refused to look at it at all. Tulane has been pressured about what they teach, and it isn’t the only university to discontinue research if the subject of the research displeases men in high places.”
    “A prudent notion on the part of the two deans, under the circumstances, but certainly against all the principles of scholarship. I am honored that you decided to approach Eclipse with your work.” He held out his hands for the manuscript. “I trust you have other copies, and that they are protected.”
    “Yes,” she told him, a touch of defiance in her posture; she removed the manuscript in its heavy cardstock file from her briefcase and passed it to him. “I have them in the safe at the hotel.”
    “Very wise. Take care to keep them under lock and key throughout your travels.” He got up again and went to put the manuscript in the second drawer of a tall, old-fashioned wooden file cabinet. “As I will here.”
    She had to fight down a rush of fear as the lock clicked audibly. “Can you let me know how long it will take your Editorial Board to reach a decision? I’m returning to Paris shortly, and I want to know what information you will need to reach me.”
    “I would say between two and three months for the Board to decide, all things being equal, assuming there is no delay in getting my new presses installed and working. Two of the old ones were reduced to scrap during the war. If there is going to be any delay, Rogers will contact you as soon as possible.” He came back to the sofa just as Rogers brought another small tray into the room, set it down and removed the one that was there, then left silently.
    “Will you have some, Grof?” she asked, more from good manners than desire to share.
    “Alas, no. Coffee does not agree with me.” He resumed his place on the sofa. “How long have you been in Europe?”
    “Not very long; a little over four weeks,” she said, her hand shaking a little as she depressed the plunger.
    “You have come alone? Or have you someone waiting for you in Paris?”
    There was such gentleness and sympathy in his question that she felt the welling of tears in her eyes; she looked away to conceal them, coughing a little before she answered. “My husband and sons are still in New Orleans. For now, we agree that it is wise for him to remain there. Arthur, my older son, has polio and neither his father nor I believes that his treatment should be interrupted.”
    He nodded. “How unfortunate for you, Professor Treat. For all of you,” he added.
    “That’s very kind of you.” She poured the coffee into the new cup Rogers had left, and added milk from another little jug.
    “I do not mean to pry, but I have seen a number of Americans—not all academics—in similar circumstances,” he said. “I take it your husband does not teach.”
    “Most of his work is research, but he does have grad students; he is a soil chemist taking part in a governmental series of experiments; the project is in its fourth year. Had I remained with him, he would most likely have had to leave his job, and might not find work easily.” She swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “I’ve scheduled a call to him this evening.”
    “Very good,” he approved.
    She