CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
My letter was printed on the morning of May 22. Within hours, the suffragists were rallying around me. I received telegrams from Elizabeth and Susan well before noon, pledging their support and promising to defend me every chance they had.
Visitors came and went, along with our regular clients, so I was only mildly surprised when a tall, handsome man in the soft collared shirt and loose jacket of a poet or scholar strode in brandishing a copy of the morning’s paper. He threw it on my desk, where it smacked against the scarred wood, and pointed at five words circled in heavy ink—“a public teacher of eminence.”
“Whom do you mean by this?” he demanded.
I smiled sweetly, waiting out the infuriated man. His dark eyes were wide with emotion, cheeks red, his breath coming
