Spring, 1910
New York City
The conversation was subdued and civilized,as befitted the surroundings: a large, tastefully decorated library, surrounded on three sides by leather bound books and a marble fireplace, and on the fourth by a wall of floor to ceiling windows, respectably covered by sheet curtains to allow light in but deflect the gaze of those on the street.
Out of the murmured conversation, a complaint lifted into the air. "We must have a motto."
"Oh, not again," his companion replied."Who would we tell this motto to, Alan? Where would we place it? Over what mantel would it be carved?" He gestured around the rather plain room they met in, the high ceilings and wainscoting on the walls almost austere in their simplicity. "It seems somewhat counterindicated for a secret society, if it truly wishes to remain unnoticed. If we must formalize our identity, I should think a statement of purpose before a motto."
The argument had been raging on and off for three ... read full excerpt from Free Fall ebook

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