FLOCKS OF PEOPLE gathered outside Fezziwig’s home: scores of weeping women and somber-faced men, all dressed in black rags and clutching baskets of holly and roast chestnuts or other humble gifts for the widow. My friend and former mentor had touched many hearts, by the look of it. My stomach clenched painfully as I realized with sadness that I, clearly amongst the wealthiest of Fezziwig’s friends, had brought nothing but Adelaide and my own guilt. Mrs. Fezziwig had once been like a mother to me, and I had shamefully prepared to offer her nothing more than my condolences. For once, I was ashamed of the tight-fistedness that had built my career.
With Adelaide by my side, I stood at the bottom of the stone steps leading up to Fezziwig’s wide-open front door. An iron dread suffocated me, pre
