“I will never have a lord and master. I can tell you that right now. And I’ll mix with whom I please.” I pushed open my front door and went inside. It felt delightfully cool and I had visions of soaking in a cool tub, then eating lunch. But I had no time. I rushed around, packing essentials into an overnight bag, made myself a cheese sandwich and grabbed a couple of plums for the train journey, and I was out again, heading for the ferry across the Hudson to Exchange Place on the Jersey shore, the terminus where the trains left for Atlantic City—there being no way to bring a railway line across the mighty Hudson. On the way I wondered who the mystery man at my front door had been. Another client, maybe? That would be useful, as this case might not be continuing if my suspicions proved to be true. I’d probably not be paid, either.

I enjoyed the hint of cool breeze as the ferry chugged across the Hudson. Then as I entered the train station, I felt the excitement one always senses at a place where great journeys begin and end. I bought my ticket and was on my way to the platform when a man came up beside me.

“Here, miss. Let me help you with your bag,” he said, tipping his hat to me before he tried to take the bag from me.

“You’re most kind, but I don’t need any kind of help,” I said. I gave him a long look. He seemed respectable enough—young, clean shaven, straw boater, light-flannel trousers. I wondered if he made a habit of making advances to young women on railway stations.

“Where are you heading?” he asked.

“Atlantic City. And yourself?”

“As luck would have it, we’re going the same way,” he said, giving me a friendly smile. “Why don’t you let me carry your bag? You seem encumbered and as you notice, I have no luggage of my own.”

“I’m really just fine, thank you. I’m a strong, healthy woman and I don’t need any help.”

“But at the very least you’ll let me escort you to your carriage,” he said. “I find train journeys so tedious and the thought of sitting beside a pretty girl has cheered me no end.”

He was beginning to annoy me. There was something about his overfriendliness that made me wary. “I have to warn you that this pretty girl is about to be married to someone else,” I said. “I would go and do your fishing elsewhere if I were you.”

He laughed. “And witty too. How delightful.”