"She has a young daughter, and you are not to touch her, you hear?"I nodded."Her family is of divided loyalties, sadly," she said. "Something odd is g...ing on, and I think she is in danger."The Madam, as usual, was right. The woman had a company of British infantry camped in the stubble of her cornfield and their officers ensconced in her home. Her slaves were now their servants, and she and her nubile daughter were obviously the target of much unwanted attention.At least, I assumed it was. Unfortunately, he thought his family shared the fascination. Ethel didn't.She returned to work after dinner. Mr. Warren, the lawyer for whom she worked, ate lunch at noon and dinner in the evening. The Grangers ate dinner at noon. And Mr. Warren was older than Pa. He'd been born in the nineteenth century, but -- unlike her parents -- he'd was aware that he was living in 1921 now. She took the long way home from work to pass by the railroad depot. They sold the New York Times there, and Ethel. More

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