Fellow Traveler

I'm tempted to ask: "Lillian, is that you?" -- but, whatever her other admirable traits, Lillian has absolutely no sense of humor.

So I'm afraid, my fellow traveler, that you do have one up on me in the identity department. Although I trust that's not a fatal flaw. In my own defense, it was a masked affair and the only way to tell those who believed from those who mimicked may well have been the quality of the clothing affected. I cannot believe you were in one of the clichéd black dominos that were overwhelmingly present; I'd be tempted to tarnish you with the garish purple lace affair but that would be entirely too cruel. I wouldn't even condemn my worst enemy to that sort of taste -- but I'm afraid he probably already has it, if I'm to judge by his normal street attire. There was one person who stood out ever so slightly in shades of russet and rose so, whether this be you or not, and because I have to call you something, I shall dub you Belle Epoch until and unless you are unmasked.

Finding out that this communication node is compromised is somewhat of interest; at least one other person in my network felt that this would be an unsafe method of relaying information but they were overridden (and now, of course, will not be able to refrain from a very ungenteel I told you so when the information becomes generally known).  However, I do not think that we will be shutting it down any time soon; you and I may not be working towards identical goals, but I have hopes that we're working towards similar ones and a little cross-communication might be a good thing.

What think you of our great panjandrum? Is he a front for someone else, or do you think he could possibly have the brains (very well hidden, if he does) to be running this rumbling insurrection himself?