Before, it had always looked easy enough to sit and wave, or stand and wave, or walk around and shake a few hands and nod at a piece of machinery. But knowing as she did that every ten-minute slot was accounted for, and each half-hour included a hundred people who could be inadvertently insulted if they weren’t smiled at or asked the right question, and twenty pressmen who would be happy to capture the moment on celluloid if it happened, Joan saw each day as an endurance test.
