It was another Sunday morning in New Hampshire, a few days into the new year, at another town-hall meeting in a middle school in front of another boisterous crowd. After the Red Star Twirlers nailed their baton routine to the Donna Summer song “She Works Hard for the Money”—with no apparent sense of irony—Hillary Clinton, in brown slacks, a gray sweater, and kitten heels, appeared to a standing ovation. She spent the next hour moving through the applause lines of her stump speech, and then listening intently to voters’ questions and answering them with candor. She was connecting. You could feel it. At one point, she launched into a story about how difficult it was for people in developing nations to comprehend how she could lose to President Obama and then wind up becoming his Secretary of State. “They were confused,” she said. “In their countries, even in burgeoning democracies, if you oppose somebody, you run against somebody, you end up being exiled or imprisoned, not Secretary of State!” The audience laughed. “When they first asked me, I was on my very first trip, in February 2009.  

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