Abigail and Solomon entered Fox and Demayne and were led to a table overlooking the Delaware River where Hart and Duncan were already seated. Duncan was in uniform—a red coat and white shirt, his powdered hair in a short ponytail—while Hart wore a brown coat and white ruffled shirt, his black hair short, his brown eyes inquisitive.
“Our thanks for your invitation to dine,” Solomon said, as they were seated.
Duncan smiled. “Just an example of how I treat my friends.”
“As opposed to his enemies,” Hart added. “Who fare far worse.”
Abigail wasn’t sure if Hart offered a threat or a stumbled attempt at humor. After no reaction from Duncan and Solomon, she chose to ignore it. “What’s the special occasion?” she asked, skeptical of their gathering.
“It’s not a celebration, I’m afraid,” Duncan
