![]() ![]() ![]() It’s just what Finn was warning me about. I don’t like it, but I’m practical enough to recognize the truth when I hear it. People will assume you’re running errands for your father. Sachi glances into the sitting room, where her mother is holding court, her green silk fan waving briskly. ![]() “He goes through people’s mail?” My eyes widen, momentarily diverted. Old man Carruthers reports on forbidden materials. And then they’d have to come through the post. “People would still buy books without Belastras’. My father loathes the idea of all that information just sitting there in her shop, available to anyone. You know the Brothers have it in for her. “No, of course you wouldn’t, and Marianne Belastra is less respectable than any of them. The dressmaker’s daughter and the chocolatier’s. Did you invite Angeline Kosmoski and her mother? Or Elinor Evans?” Everyone will whisper behind her back, and she’ll be miserable. “No, it’s fact,” Sachi says, leaning down to smell the roses. Why?” I tamp down the rush of defensiveness. “I haven’t been able to get away, but I asked Mrs. Malcolm as Maura ushers them into the dining room. ![]()
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