//CLARA//
Casimir's pen scratched across the paper, each stroke a small act of reluctant compliance. I hovered over his shoulder, my chin nearly resting on it, reading as he wrote.
Dear Mr. Chamberlain,
Regarding the matter of the Linotype and the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Mr. Whitfield's recent ordeal, I write to express my continued interest in the project. The machine has merit. The inventor has been exonerated. I believe a reconsideration of your position is warranted.
—Mr. Casimir Guggenheim
I snorted. "That is the most begrudging letter I have ever read."
He did not look up. "It is a business letter."
"It is a letter written by a man who would rather eat glass than admit I was right."
He set down the pen and turned his head. His gray eyes met mine.
"You were persistent."
I grinned. "Whatever helps you sleep."
