When Arthur requested a private meeting with me, using the kind of formal language that suggested serious matters rather than casual conversation, I found myself both curious and slightly apprehensive. Our interactions had always been pleasant and intellectually stimulating, but there was something in his expression during the request that hinted at depths I hadn't previously glimpsed.
The Astoria estate's private study was one of my favorite rooms—filled with books, comfortable seating, and the kind of peaceful atmosphere that encouraged honest conversation. As I waited for Arthur's arrival, I found myself wondering what could be so important that it required such formal privacy. Perhaps he wanted to discuss collaboration on some of the social reform ideas we had explored during our various conversations?
