retorted.
But you have no reason to believe that Finch will be destroyed. You have no reason to believe anything. You do not yet know that Amelia Thistle is, in fact, Mae Bowen.
“Charles and Grant swore up and down that she is,” I protested.
Charles and Grant could be mistaken. As you yourself pointed out, the two women could be doubles or identical twins. Before you take up arms to defend Finch from Mae Bowen’s overzealous admirers, don’t you think it would be wise to find out if Grant and Charles are correct?
“I could ask Bill to run a background check on Mrs. Thistle,” I offered.
You’ll do no such thing. Mae Bowen is not a criminal and she doesn’t deserve to be treated like one.
“You’re right,” I conceded equably. “I’d be acting like a Bowenist ifI pried into her private life without her knowledge, so a background check is out. I suppose you have a better idea?”
I believe I do. It’s a risky proposition, though. It might even be dangerous. It will almost certainly require courage and cunning.
Intrigued, I glanced toward the hallway, then hunched secretively over the journal and lowered my voice. “Are you by any chance suggesting that I break into Pussywillows and rifle through Mrs. Thistle’s papers?”
I most certainly am not. However much it might appeal to your sense of adventure, Lori, such a course of action would be an even greater invasion of privacy than a background check. I would never advise you to burgle a home unless it was absolutely necessary, which, in this case, it is not.
“What are you suggesting, then?” I asked.
I am advising you to speak with Mrs. Thistle.
“Speak with her?” I repeated, feeling a bit deflated. The adventurous side of me would have preferred burglary. “That’s it?”
That’s it. Ask Mrs. Thistle if she is Mae Bowen. The rest of the conversation will follow naturally from her answer.
“The direct approach, eh?” I said ruminatively.
It’s usually the best approach. It’s certainly less risky than breaking and entering.
“Where does the danger come in?” I inquired.
To ask questions is to risk rebuffs. Mrs. Thistle may tell you to mind your own business. She may faint or shriek or slap your face. She may even see you to the door. Courage will be needed to ask the question. Cunning may be needed to gain an answer. I suggest that you bring a selection of tea biscuits with you.
“To use as a defensive weapon?” I said, smiling.
In a manner of speaking. Mrs. Thistle will feel obliged to offer you a cup of tea in return for your kindness. Once she sits down to tea with you, she’ll have to behave in a civilized manner. You might bring a quiche as well, or any other dish that can be refrigerated, then warmed through when needed. It’s a bother to cook when one’s pots and pans are inaccessible. She’ll appreciate a quiche.
“So,” I said, “I should bring Mrs. Thistle some cookies and a quiche, wait for her to make tea, then spring the big question on her.”
Yes, and the sooner, the better. The longer you speculate, the more likely you are to do something you, Bill, William, and I will regret. You have been known to behave rashly, Lori.
“If I were blessed with impulse control,” I responded, “I wouldn’t have torn out of the tearoom to chase after Charles and Grant. The only reason we know about Mrs. Thistle’s little secret is because I followed a hunch.”
But we don’t know for certain that Mrs. Thistle has a secret, Lori, not yet, though I’m sure you’ll find out all about it tomorrow. I wish you the best of luck, my dear,
“Thanks, Dimity,” I said. “I’ll keep you informed.”
I know you will and I’m grateful. Good night, Lori. Sleep well.
I waited until the lines of royal-blue ink had faded from the page, then closed the journal and looked up at Reginald.
“Sleep will have to wait,” I said to my pink bunny. “I have to make cookies and a quiche tonight, because I intend to visit
But you have no reason to believe that Finch will be destroyed. You have no reason to believe anything. You do not yet know that Amelia Thistle is, in fact, Mae Bowen.
“Charles and Grant swore up and down that she is,” I protested.
Charles and Grant could be mistaken. As you yourself pointed out, the two women could be doubles or identical twins. Before you take up arms to defend Finch from Mae Bowen’s overzealous admirers, don’t you think it would be wise to find out if Grant and Charles are correct?
“I could ask Bill to run a background check on Mrs. Thistle,” I offered.
You’ll do no such thing. Mae Bowen is not a criminal and she doesn’t deserve to be treated like one.
“You’re right,” I conceded equably. “I’d be acting like a Bowenist ifI pried into her private life without her knowledge, so a background check is out. I suppose you have a better idea?”
I believe I do. It’s a risky proposition, though. It might even be dangerous. It will almost certainly require courage and cunning.
Intrigued, I glanced toward the hallway, then hunched secretively over the journal and lowered my voice. “Are you by any chance suggesting that I break into Pussywillows and rifle through Mrs. Thistle’s papers?”
I most certainly am not. However much it might appeal to your sense of adventure, Lori, such a course of action would be an even greater invasion of privacy than a background check. I would never advise you to burgle a home unless it was absolutely necessary, which, in this case, it is not.
“What are you suggesting, then?” I asked.
I am advising you to speak with Mrs. Thistle.
“Speak with her?” I repeated, feeling a bit deflated. The adventurous side of me would have preferred burglary. “That’s it?”
That’s it. Ask Mrs. Thistle if she is Mae Bowen. The rest of the conversation will follow naturally from her answer.
“The direct approach, eh?” I said ruminatively.
It’s usually the best approach. It’s certainly less risky than breaking and entering.
“Where does the danger come in?” I inquired.
To ask questions is to risk rebuffs. Mrs. Thistle may tell you to mind your own business. She may faint or shriek or slap your face. She may even see you to the door. Courage will be needed to ask the question. Cunning may be needed to gain an answer. I suggest that you bring a selection of tea biscuits with you.
“To use as a defensive weapon?” I said, smiling.
In a manner of speaking. Mrs. Thistle will feel obliged to offer you a cup of tea in return for your kindness. Once she sits down to tea with you, she’ll have to behave in a civilized manner. You might bring a quiche as well, or any other dish that can be refrigerated, then warmed through when needed. It’s a bother to cook when one’s pots and pans are inaccessible. She’ll appreciate a quiche.
“So,” I said, “I should bring Mrs. Thistle some cookies and a quiche, wait for her to make tea, then spring the big question on her.”
Yes, and the sooner, the better. The longer you speculate, the more likely you are to do something you, Bill, William, and I will regret. You have been known to behave rashly, Lori.
“If I were blessed with impulse control,” I responded, “I wouldn’t have torn out of the tearoom to chase after Charles and Grant. The only reason we know about Mrs. Thistle’s little secret is because I followed a hunch.”
But we don’t know for certain that Mrs. Thistle has a secret, Lori, not yet, though I’m sure you’ll find out all about it tomorrow. I wish you the best of luck, my dear,
“Thanks, Dimity,” I said. “I’ll keep you informed.”
I know you will and I’m grateful. Good night, Lori. Sleep well.
I waited until the lines of royal-blue ink had faded from the page, then closed the journal and looked up at Reginald.
“Sleep will have to wait,” I said to my pink bunny. “I have to make cookies and a quiche tonight, because I intend to visit
Similar Books
