This is one of those cases where I don‘t dislike the book—I‘d absolutely recommend it to anyone who loves Wilkie Collins and his ilk—but I‘m gonna step away at page 175 because I don‘t think the enjoyment I‘ll get out of it will be worth the sheer amount of time I‘ll have to spend between its covers. The pace is glacial, thanks to the many character-establishing tangents in the letters, and that‘s made it tough for me to stay engaged.
Sigh.