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When Emily Daggett Weiss boarded the Twentieth Century Limited in the spring of 1914, bound for a brief sojourn in the West, one or two old biddies gave her the hairy eye. Woman traveling alone. No better than she should be, as her mother used to say about young women of low moral standards. Worse than the biddies, a traveling salesman winked at her.
Her attire was sober and dignified, a charcoal traveling suit and pearl gray kid gloves, auburn hair tucked out of sight under a fairly quiet hat, lined in French crepe and sparingly trimmed with ostrich pom-poms. She hadn’t