Chapter 23London, September 18, 1895
Track Three
Katarina waited until she was certain Hewitt had completely departed before she flew across the hall. Almost before she finished knocking, Maxwell opened the door—in his shirt sleeves, with his collar undone, but with eyes too bright and alert to be those of a man just roused from sleep.
“You will not believe the conversation I just had,” she greeted him.
He stepped aside to let her in, brandishing a telegram slip with his free hand. He looked as alive as she felt. “No matter what your news is, I think mine trumps it.”
“Indeed? Who sent that?” Katarina squinted at it.
“Trevelyan.”
Katarina stared a moment. “In that case, you’re absolutely right. Does he have progress to report?”
“I think he has success to report.” Maxwell’s voice vib
