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The Ladies - Elizabeth Bear Quincy, Massachusetts, February 1797 Mrs. John Adams looked to her sewing. The sealed letter she ignored with such presence of intention rested on a round wooden table beside her as she tugged thread taut, knotted, and snipped it with the scissors hung on a ribbon around her neck. She knew the round cramped handwriting that addressed the folded paper and the seal that closed it, and although she would not glance at it, she knew without lifting the seal what it contained. The postmark was Philadelphia, and the color of the wax was a signal long arranged. She felt it as if it were no mere note, but the soft-spoken, ginger-haired author himself at her elbow, valiantly refraining from clearing his throat. It would be easier if he were here, Mrs. Adams thought, as she measured another length of thread. It would have been easier to hear this news in person, from the Secretary of State's lips, in Mr. Jefferson's own gentle lisp. But perhaps it was just that the news come in a letter. Letters of her own had started all this foolishness, after all. She had no-one to blame but herself. _____ Quincy, Massachusetts, May 7, 1776 . . . I cannot say that I think you are very generous to the ladies; for, whilst you are proclaiming peace and good-will to men, emancipating all nations, you insist upon retaining an absolute power over wives. But you must remember that arbitrary power
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