This was not going well. It was a rare moment that Maeve Connolly did not feel sure of herself, but here she was, beginning to wonder if she had not been foolish to approach him after all. She typically prided herself on being a sublime judge of character, of situations, but this was falling apart more quickly than parchment in the Black Lake.

“Nevermind, Mr. Skeeter,” she answered stiffly, moving to leave. “I shall leave you to your task.”