Chapter 13
Our carriage joined the other vehicles that waited in the queue along Pennsylvania Avenue to discharge passengers in front of the Corcoran Gallery of Art. As we crept along, the young ladies kept their faces to the window, watching the top-hatted gentlemen and bejeweled ladies in fur stoles who proceeded up the steps. Additional lanterns lit up the entrance, where a banner was strung across the upper pillars: CHARITY AUCTION TONIGHT.
Finally, it was our turn. Webb—pressed into service as our driver at the last minute when the original hired cabbie showed up reeking of bourbon—handed us down.
“I’m sorry to say it, Webb, but I’ll want you to wait ’round the corner with the other drivers,” Cullom said. “Don’t know exactly how long we will be staying.”
Webb nodded with an aggrie
