[Anne is sitting in a chair near the window of her room in the Tower of London. She is aware that she was to die today but no one has come. The journal was sitting on her night table this morning and she has opened it several times today, reading the things that appear there. Now something appears in a familiar hand and she picks up a quill to reply.]
I do not know but we both seem to have been caught up in it. I assure you that it is none of my doing.