“Yesterday, after Cobban had left, Lizzie and I had taken one more turn around the rink, and I had fallen. Too bad, I thought, I won’t be able to stitch the reverend’s shirts today. How will I pass the time? I already knew, of course. Lizzie was happily ensconced in Auntie Bond’s parlor, practicing a thumping march, when I again put on hat and coat, feeling more than a qualm of guilt. How would I purchase Lizzie’s Christmas present if I did not finish the reverend’s shirts on time? A woman shoul...d complete her household duties and maintain order in her little kingdom before pursuing other activities, and when time allows she should study literature, philosophy, and languages. Crime scenes and dead bodies were not a part of this useful system. But, kind reader, I ask your indulgence. If you love a story, where better to find one than where a crime has been committed? The winter air was mild and the streets more congested. The costumes of the ladies grew much richer as I approached Arlington Street.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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