CHAPTER NINETEEN
JANUARY 1871
Though I wished him to linger, I was relieved that Mr. Reymart had to return to New York. That way, no awkwardness or stolen glances could feed the Washington rumor mill. Not that it needed more fodder. Other rumors were quickly surfacing in the gossip-laden streets, as I found out at lunch the day I was set to testify before Congress. The people at a nearby table began talking loudly about me.
“I can tell you one thing for certain,” said a woman with an affected high-class accent. “Some of the women in the movement, particularly Mrs. Isabella Beecher Hooker, look down on this Mrs. Woodhull for her impolite opinions and lack of breeding. She said to me once, ‘Who is this woman but the daughter of a crook? What have I to fear from the spawn of sin?’”
“That
