The confirmation, however private that Henry and I were cousins would have been quite undigestable enough, even without the rest of the news.
The message had included a key, which Henry's father had intrusted to him to give to me. Some sort of legacy had been left to me by this mysterous person who knew so much.
My first insinct was to ignore it. This all was quite disturbing. After all, my experance with legacies had been... less than good. The last mysterous legacy had cost me my parents, and so far this one had cost me my peice of mind.
I managed to ignore the key for days. But then at last, I knew that if I did not find out what was going on, I was going to die of stifled curiosity.
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a little brown book
finding the life of Alexander Shaw, a kind of serial story.
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