Exit, Stage Right

In the ballroom, radio host Laura Ingraham, assigned to introduce Romney to the crowd, used the forum to launch an extended attack on McCain for asking conservatives recently to "just calm down a little bit." "I don't have to calm down about it," she said, calling Romney "the conservative's conservative."

Romney entered to a sea of waving signs; the applause and chants lasted even longer than the ovation Vice President Cheney got earlier in the day. He at first gave no hint that he was quitting the race, unless you caught the change in tense. "It has been a family affair," he said. "As of today, more than 4 million people have given me their vote for president."

He went through his usual stump speech. Only the tilt of his head to the side during applause and the small, nostalgic smile hinted at his emotion. "I know that many in this room are fully behind my campaign -- you are with me all the way to the convention," he said, his words punctuated by cheers and declarations of "We love you." "Fight on, just like Ronald Reagan did in 1976."

Then everything changed. "But there is an important difference," he said, going on to explain that his continued campaign would "make it easier for Senator Clinton or Obama to win."

The stunned supporters shouted their protests, but Romney disappeared so quickly that they barely had time to stand and applaud.

"It's sad for America," said Romney supporter Susan Lowe, tears trickling down her cheeks, as she left the ballroom.

The scene in the exhibit hall reflected the earthquake that had just occurred. The woman working the Romney booth stood silently, her eyes damp, as scavengers made off with souvenirs. A campaign-pin vendor fretted that he would have to put his 600 Romney buttons in the 10-for-a-dollar "discontinued" bin with those of Fred Thompson and Rudy Giuliani. The McCain table, meanwhile, suddenly had a three-deep crowd, some decorating themselves with McCain stickers right next to their Romney emblems.

Fortunately, McCain could count on the fact that the conservatives hate Hillary Clinton even more than they hate him -- evidenced in the exhibit hall by the T-shirts ("It Takes a Village to Elect an Idiot"), knickknacks (Hillary nutcracker, Hillary bobblehead), and stickers ("Happiness Is Hillary's Face on a Milk Carton").

Former House majority leader Dick Armey tried to play on this sentiment when he asked the audience if it would really rather "sit it out and join Ann Coulter with Hillary" -- recalling the conservative pundit's claim that she would support Clinton over McCain.

But even that was of limited use. When McCain was announced, a minute of persistent booing kept pace with the applause.

"I appreciate very much your courtesy," McCain said, though little was on display.

"I hope you will pardon my absence last year," he added, to exaggerated groans from the crowd.

McCain used a teleprompter and spoke carefully. He went through his conservative credentials, winning applause for his support for the unborn and for his terrorism-fighting credentials. But mostly, the crowd listened in uncomfortable silence, at least until he mentioned "the issue of illegal immigration." Booing resumed. McCain smiled. "No amnesty!" a heckler shouted.

"I have made many mistakes," McCain said as he neared the end of the ordeal. "You can attest to that -- but need not," he hurried to add, heading off more abuse.

He left the stage quickly, but the boos returned before he could reach the curtain.