[[CW: References to violence, alluded potential spousal abuse, general leaning on "beneficial" sexism, general intentional truth-twisting and the occasional lie peppered in over petty shit.]]

This letter to the editor is posted in one of the trashier newspapers – specifically, the one with the Lonely Hearts section.

There are also a few of these left open to this page in places constables are known to be regularly found, in addition to various brothels (some of which even coppers dare not go).

Quote:I am a young, impressionable woman from a respectable family in Texas, United States. Though I am at an age that I can afford to take time to pursue a nursing degree, what is a woman without a husband?

I answered an ad from here in search of a wife. He said he was in his 30s, and I told him my age – 19. It did not alarm me at the time.

I laid with my letter, dreaming of a modest future with a man who seemed so humble he must be honest. Right? If only! When he met me for lunch, he whispered my name as though it were dirty. He kept his gloves on, even as he drank tea! Beckoned me to drink tea with him so that we did not look ‘suspicious,’ as though he thought he were hiring me for the night! He told me he was ‘seriously’ in need of a wife after acting as though he had an assassin in the shadows after him.

Not only this, but he assured me repeatedly that he was merely seeking a ‘friend’ to be married to, not to be mistaken for a true wife. A scam to the good public! At first, I took it as him merely being shy around women. Now, I wonder. Is he impotent? He demanded no children, but surely no real man means such a thing. He said that it would be loveless, but aren’t all marriages at first? Oscar Wilde, too, has no children.

Is he another Oscar Wilde, but this time masquerading as a good Catholic and upstanding constable instead of the far more suspicious artiste?

Perhaps I should have known better when his letter demanded secrecy of a complete and honest stranger!

The truly horrifying moment is what might have befallen me had I went along swimmingly with him: our dear friend at Box #12 hits women, because what else is he to do on the job but beat up any helpless tourists who might have thought the private land was public? Woe to any women who agrees to be this miscreant’s wife.

I hope you found what you were not looking for, Constable Elijah Crane.

Sincerely,
An Anchor in Your Scorn