“You are forgetting, wise Sister Alice, that I know the secret of the St Pancras Womens’ circle,” said the reporter from the Gazette, glancing over the pages of his notebook.
“That we knit for the poor.”
“That we make marvellously tasty biscuits that artfully balance ginger and cinnamon without destroying the taste of either.”
“Then it must be the terse yet polite way we word our newsletters listing everyone involved out of a spirit of fairness.”
“No, no, no. Quite the reverse. I refer to a secret of great import. That, Queen Victoria, herself, set up the group to assassinate the French actress, Sarah Bernhardt, because of a suspected affair with the then Prince of Wales. Your own greatgrandmother was among a team of middle class ladies trained by Gurkhas to carry out the brutal murder. The Queen, however, had second thoughts, after seeing her intended victim perform in the Sauto Theater in Cuba where she was won over by the actress´s immense talent. Since then the St Pancras Womens’ circle has been recruited for a number of increasingly crackpot schemes that never came to fruition. Am I not right?
“Yes, I quite forgot about that,” said Sister Alice. “Gosh, we do really have a lot of secrets, don´t we?”