Chapter TwentyFive: New Friendships...

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This morning it is almost impossible to hold off all the puns the group members are making about last night. Sadie, John, Micah. They're all mocking me for that goddamn party.

"Yes, yes I got it! Now I'm a fucking aristocratic!" I shout at the umpteenth pun.

"Listen, Miss Aristocratic, I remind you that dress won't walk back to the shop by itself" says Miss Grimshaw walking past me.

"I go immediately" I reply standing up from the table where I'm sipping my coffee. This way I don't have to listen to them.

With the packed dress under my arm, I head to the horses, loading it on Isabella.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kilgore."

I turn around and smile heartily at Arthur.

"Good morning, Mr. Kilgore. How is going your morning?"

"Better that yours" he laughs saddling up his horse.

"Are you going somewhere?" I ask.

"Mr. Miller asked Dutch a hand for the Indian's question."

Miller? A hand? When? Does he mean last night? He didn't really ask for a hand, he asked for support. And he asked me, not him.

"So you're going to the city?" I ask again. Now I want to know what kind of plan has Dutch to help the natives.

"You too?"

"If you come with me to deliver the dress, I'll come with you to Mr. Miller. I think he'll be happy to see me again."

................

As we arrive in Saint Denis, I rack my brains to remember the road for the tailor. I mistake a few times, but in the end I reach the familiar window with the colorful cloths.

I give the dress back, the tailor checks it and then I go back to Arthur, who's waiting outside. Together, we head to that part of the city that I haven't seen yet, the one with the factories.

"Where do we have to meet them exactly?" I ask.

"They don't know we're coming" he answers.

"So... we're helping them... but they don't know we are helping them?"

"Uh... something like that, yeah. They are at the Consul's office."

"And, how do you have this information?"

He chuckles without answering. I hate them when they play all mysterious.

The Consul's office is right in front of the police station, so to reach it we make a great parade in front of some policemen who study us from head to toe. We maintain calm and nod to them a good morning to which they reply. If they only knew who we are.

Mr. Miller is already there, knocking insistently at the consul's door, with the two Indians we saw last night at the party.

"Hello? Hello? Open up, please. Come on... we have an appointment!" he calls at the door.

We exchange a look and then we slowly approach them. I am really really curious of what Arthur will say, of what Dutch's plan is.

While we get closer, one of the natives sees us and calls Mr. Miller to make him turn in our direction.

"Good Morning" I say with a smile.

"Hello. I think I know you" he replies narrowing his eyes and studying our features.

Poor man, I don't blame him. We are completely different form last night, me especially. With trousers and revolver and my hair down, I am another person.

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