“—Wyatt Earp, regarding Doc Holliday Somehow the morning passed and the afternoon dwindled nearly to evening. Anna pushed away from her desk to stretch. While the unpleasantness with Edwin had sent her hurrying to her bedchamber, the thick packet of letters kept her there. Most were of the hard-to-believe variety, while a few were tributes to individuals whose names meant nothing. Letters of both kinds were easily culled and returned to the packet, leaving half a dozen choice leads that might ma...ke sensational stories. Four gave addresses to which she could respond, an endeavor that had kept Anna busy until well past lunchtime. Then came the writing of tomorrow’s column, an essay on a fellow known to locals by the name of Soapy. Perhaps, Anna thought as she folded the pages and prepared them for delivery to Mr. Smith at the Times, the story’s subject might wish to refute her firsthand informants with a personal interview of his own. For that, she’d certainly write a follow-up piece.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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