Chapter 67
The director of the asylum Michael McDuff had settled rather quickly and easily into was pleased to receive the post most days. His assistants kept the useless solicitations and political claptrap down to a minimum, and made certain any offers that might be of benefit made it through.
Especially if the benefit was to him first: the patients or the asylum itself, second.
He was a practical man.
The letter on top hadn’t been opened during the usual inspections, which was unusual in itself. Only an address somewhere in east London that he wasn’t familiar with.
As soon as his fingertips brushed across the thick, fine paper inside, he didn’t care to scold or even ask about how the letter had gotten through.
He was simply glad that it had.
Because as it turned out, this letter
