They argued somethin’ fierce at night -- Lady Comstock and the Prophet. Could never make out what it was about from my bunk, though. After the worst, I seen she ain’t left for morning prayer ... so I crept upstairs to check in on her. And like a fool ... I lingered. “Scullery maid” was what they called me when I walked into Comstock House. “Murderer” was what they shouted when I ran out.