Time of Fog and Fire: A Molly Murphy Mystery (Molly Murphy Mysteries) Read Online Free

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    “And you’re my big daughter,” I said quickly, knowing that she worried as much about having to go back to live with her father in squalor as she did about finding he had died. “Between myself and Daniel’s mother we’re going to make sure you have every chance in life, and you’ll always have a home.”
    She nodded then, her eyes very bright. I have to confess I did have misgivings as I closed the door. I had left her alone with Liam before, but during the daytime and on occasions when Sid and Gus were just across the alleyway. But I told myself not to be silly. I had checked Liam and the house. All was well. I should go out and enjoy myself without worrying.
    However, I have to confess that I was relieved when I tapped on Sid and Gus’s front door only to learn that Gus had a headache and did not feel like going to a noisy party.
    “Then we don’t have to go,” I said immediately.
    “That’s what I told her,” Sid said. “But she insists that you and I go and enjoy ourselves.”
    “Then I’ll just pop back and tell Bridie that Miss Walcott is home, should she need her,” I said. I did so then Sid and I set off. The parlor at Mr. Twain’s house on Fifth Avenue was already full of noisy company by the time we arrived. More women than men, I noticed, and most of them stylishly dressed.
    “How good of you to come.” Mr. Twain took my hands in his. “Another radiant beauty to light up my small and dreary life.”
    “As if anything about your life could ever be small, Mr. Twain,” the man beside him said. “You’ve been a giant in American society since you were a boy.”
    “I hope you’re not going to write such exaggerated twaddle now that I’ve given you permission to write my biography, Albert,” he said. He turned to us. “This is Mr. Albert Paine, who has been pestering me about writing my autobiography. Or failing that, to let him be my biographer. Clearly he thinks I don’t have much time left on this earth, but I’ve always sworn that I plan to go out with Halley’s Comet so I’ve a few more years yet. I came in with it and I’ll go out with it.”
    “It would be a grand notion if we could all arrange the day of our deaths in advance,” Mr. Paine said. “So much tidier.”
    More newcomers arrived and Sid and I were swept into the crowd. Sid seemed to know some of them. I felt rather shy as I found myself chatting with writers, artists, and members of the Four Hundred. I was glad I had been to Paris the year before as the conversation seemed to revert back to that city and to London.
    “I wouldn’t dream of having my clothes made anywhere else these days, would you?” a woman was saying. She was dressed in the height of fashion in a mauve dress with the new bolero waist and generous lace trim all over, a jaunty mauve turban on her head, plus a little too-obvious coloring on her lips and cheeks.
    I caught the eye of an older woman standing behind her, soberly dressed, and we exchanged a grin. At least there are others here who think like me, I decided and was glad when she came across to speak to me.
    “I’m feeling a little like a fish out of water here, I have to confess,” she said to me. “I don’t know why I came but my dear friend Irma Reimer told me it was time I came back into society more and dragged me from the house. Do you know Irma Reimer? She is very thick with the Vanderbilts and the Astors.”
    “I’m afraid not,” I said. “I don’t move much in society these days. I’ve a young baby.”
    “How fortunate you are,” she said. “Mr. Endicott and I were not blessed with children. It has been a thorn in the side for both of us.” She extended her hand. “I’m Rose Endicott.”
    “Molly Sullivan.” We shook hands. “Are you a widow now?” I asked, noting her dark gray dress and that her friend had told her it was high time she came back into society.
    “Oh, no,” she replied. “But my husband is away so much. He is in the import and