I dress quickly, put up my hair, and go downstairs. In the drawing room, my dear friend Mr. Wilson turns around. Praise God! It is so good to see him.
“Mr. Wilson, I’m so pleased to see you. Sit here.” I smile and gesture to the cane lounge. “Let me call for refreshments.” I extend my hands, but Mr. Wilson holds his topi with both hands.
“No, Miss Pigot. This isn’t a social call. I’m here about your lawsuit.”
“Has Reverend Hastie agreed to retract?” For a moment, I am hopeful.
“Far from it. He’ll never withdraw. You’ve ruined us,” Mr. Wilson says without any expression in his voice.
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