fat hearts, aprofusion of violets, and a pair of cupids, with the simplestatement, To My Valentine. It was pretty and, although Henryhad rather hoped to find a card with some flowery language to make upfor his own inarticulateness, it was fitting, coming from him. Also,one of the cupids had dark hair, the other tawny, which seemedmeaningful. He stood impatiently in line, paid, and tucked the cardinside his magazine. He hurried back across the street and into thearcade.Martinseemed scarcely to have noticed he was gone. Oh, hello, hesaid, looking up from the Mutoscope machine. You should watch thisone, Sir, its really funny.OnTuesday, Louis made Henry go with him to the same five-and-dime so hecould buy a card for their friend Alberts comely blonde sister,Abigail DeWitt. Louis wanted to find the perfect paper sentiment, thecard that would make her return his feelings. Henry doubted such acard existed. Peter and Martin idly browsed cards nearby and a groupof working-class kids pointed at them, whispering behind their hands,which Henry thought ridiculous. Except for the Martins long hairand their tattoos, the slaves were perfectly normal boys.Dontyou need to get a card for anybody? Anyone at all?Henrysmouth twisted wryly. Dont you think youd know if I hadsomebody, Louis?Idont think you even wanta sweetheart, Louis said, shaking his head in disbelief. Yourethe latest late bloomer ever.Henryshrugged, perfectly willing for Louis to think of him as a latebloomer. It was far preferable to Louis knowing the truth. Hewondered what Louis would think, though. Would he be more upset thatHenry was in love with a boy, or that he was in love with a slave?The boy would be the larger problem, of course, but would it seem asbad if Henry had fallen in love with a free boy instead? Henrythought not: falling in love with a boy was breaking one big rule,falling in love with a slave was breaking another, and combining thetwo was to practically spit in the face of decent society, and Louiswas, after all, actually pretty conventional.Tuesdayevening, upon returning from his dinner, Martin had a request.Doyou remember, Henry, at Thanksgiving you had suggested that someday Imight play at a party for the slaves? He held Henrys trousersready for him to step in.Oh,yes, sure, Henry said, putting a hand on Martins shoulder forbalance. Do you want to do that sometime soon?Wouldit be possible for me to have the evening on Saturday? Martinsounded a little anxious. I know its short notice, but theother slaves dont always know their schedules far in advance.Idont see a problem, Henry told him. Is it just a regularparty for fun, or is it some special occasion?Itsspecial, Martin said, smiling. Billy and Jane are gettingmarried!Henrysjaw dropped. MyBilly?Yes,and Jane from the Slatterys.Buthow...? Henry didnt quite understand. They live in differenthouses.Itsnot ideal, Martin admitted. But even though they wont livein the same house, theyll be accommodated a little by the others.Given days off together whenever possible, and things like that.CanI come to the wedding? Henry shrugged into his dinner shirt anddid the buttons at the bottom while Martin put the studs into thebib. After all, Billy is a