Chapter 55

* * * *

He was woken by a soft tap on the door and Carter’s re-entry.

Carter shut the door and leaned against it, hands in his pockets. “How are you doing?”

Lew sat up and wiped his face with his handkerchief—no convenient tissues in 1921, he’d had to get used to remembering. “Just about as you’d expect. She’s not stirred.”