“It seems Robert Cecil lived up to his nickname,” Miss Mary said. “The Fox.”
Ian was curious. “What does that mean,
“That he chose what he wanted to respect and ignored the rest. Which explains why his journal even exists. He seems to have wanted people to know the truth.”
The train stopped at a station.
He and Miss Mary exited, then wound their way around to a connector line that would take them to The Goring Hotel.
Once inside the new train he asked, “Can we read some more?”
Miss Mary smiled in her warm way. “Of course. I’m as curious as you seem to be.”