Duce & Nobble
With Agnes Crowley
Well hello, my impressionable darlings!
I am terribly sorry to report that Mercy Mark’s hot air balloon did not make it over the Atlantic Ocean. Due to an entirely unpremeditated accident, the vessel crashed mere moments after takeoff, and Miss Mark plunged several thousand feet to her tragic, fiery death. Who could have predicted a tiny puncture hole in her balloon would cause the massive devastation of an entire city block and the innocent lives of so many poor, unsuspecting street people?
Owing to the unforeseen and unquestionably voluntary resignation and subsequent misfortune of the former columnist, I am happy to announce I will be taking over as your munificent, advise-dispensing agony aunt in her stead. Should you be harbouring any lingering suspicions regarding the fate of Miss Mark, you may find me in the backroom of the Barking Irons Tavern in the East End, and I will be delighted to address your concerns and deal with you accordingly at that time.
And so, straight away and without further ado, let us get on with this racket.