Standing in line before boarding the train, Isabel Fairchild raised her gaze, taking in the foggy San Francisco sky. Her pulse raced. 'I'm leaving!' 'I'm leaving!' At last, she was free. Free to find her way in the world. Free to find independence and adventure. Free from marrying a man her father deemed good for her. A man less exciting than milk toast. No, she would never be Mrs. Horace A. Peabody, no matter how much her father desired the match.
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