This is going more slowly than I’d like. I’m apparently distracted right now. GO FIGURE.
At any rate, the attacker was tall enough to perhaps be the unfortunate Mr. Lincoln, and he had been supposed to call upon Lady Florence that afternoon. Whether he had actually arrived was… a matter of some debate, according to Dr. Doyle. “For a family with a murdered daughter,” he said, “they are remarkably close-mouthed over what happened to her.”
“Magda?” I said, to get her attention. When she looked at me, I smiled and said, “Would you sort all of that out, please?”
Magda smiled. “Certainly, Marie. What is your desire?”
“A good deal less nonsense from the Countess, at the very least. Although that might take more than one meeting. But all of this is absurd.”
“Ah. I thought so, but you English can be rather…”
“Eccentric?”
“Does that mean ‘mad’?”
“Depends on how much a year the madman’s worth,” muttered Bell.