Chapters (206)
- Praise for Maplecroft
- Title page
- Copyright page
- Contents
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
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- A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
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- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
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- I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
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- Nance O’Neil
- THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
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- AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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- THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
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- CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
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- HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
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- A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Nance O’Neil
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
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- Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
- Emma L. Borden
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- Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
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- DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
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- Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Emma L. Borden
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- FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Inspector Simon Wolf
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I doubt your sister would care to join us, but you must invite her. I wish she liked me better. You love her and I love you, but therein lies the problem, doesn’t it? At any rate, I’m sorry. I’ll leave it alone. This is meant to be a happy letter, not a reproachful one.
I am looking forward—not backward!
Backward is a grim, unpleasant place. If there are worse gossips or backbiters than actresses, anywhere on the face of the earth . . . I’m not sure I’d believe it. Wicked fiends, the lot of them—surpassed only by directors, whose evil nature is exceeded only by the pen-fiddlers who write for the papers, and tell the world of our triumphs but describe them as the most dismal of failures.
I’ve just now reread what I’ve composed so far. If I had more paper at my immediate disposal, I’d throw these sheets away and begin again. I’m rambling, and doing so with embarrassing inconsistency.
I’m tired, Lizbeth. That’s the root of it all.
The days are so long in the theater company. Twenty-four hours, and they want them all. Half the week I sleep atop a pile of costumes backstage, with a bottle in my hand (if I’m lucky) or your letters (if I’m luckier still). Then I awaken when the first hands arrive, or Mary and I often do—and sometimes Anne stays, too. They expect the most from us, more even than they want from their leading men.
And look, now I’m sulking.
Forgive me. I’ll stop wasting ink, and wasting paper.
This is a happy letter, because it announces that soon, you and I will be together. And we will drink and sleep and make whatever sort of merry we please. It will be lovely, and it will last as long as we like.
Don’t bother to write and tell me to stay. It won’t work. I’m well past taking “no” for an answer. If you turn me away, it will kill me. Maybe that would please your sister, but I don’t think it’s what you want.
I wouldn’t ask you to choose between us. There’s no reason you ought to, and no reason you have to. We’re grown women, she and I, and we will behave accordingly.
I will see you shortly! So shortly . . . another two weeks, and then however long it takes to pack and book the train tickets. I’ll send a telegram in advance of my arrival, so you’ll know when to pick me up.
All my love, of course. Always.
GL (though don’t you dare address me so.)
THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
Emma L. Borden
APRIL 11, 1894
Here comes Gertrude.