“I wouldn’t worry about it, love,” the sandwich man said kindly. “She’ll come back fast enough, if she needs ter.”

Hester was momentarily at a loss. She fished out two threepenny pieces. “May I have another sandwich, please? That ham’s extremely good.” Actually, she did not want it; she had eaten enough.

He gave her one with pleasure, and tuppence change.

“I don’t think she knows how ill she is,” she improvised. “Some of those things are catching. I think she wasn’t alone. She could give it to others.” The story was getting wilder as she tried to interest him. “Maybe someone with children. Children get sick so quickly.”

He shook his head. “Well, I dunno ’ow yer gonna find ’er. The street is full o’ girls.”

“This one was unusual-looking. She had very fair hair, almost white, and a lovely skin. She wasn’t terribly pretty, but sort of … innocent-looking. Very clean, if you know what I mean.” She looked at him hopefully.

“Tuesday last week, yer said?”

“Yes. Did you see her? About this time of day, or a little earlier.”

“Who did yer say she were with?”

“I don’t know. Another woman, maybe …”

“Older, eh? Sort o’ respectable-lookin’. Bit dumpy. Brown ’air.”

“Yes! Yes, that could be right.” She had no idea who it could have been, but she had nothing else to follow. “You saw them? Where did they go?”

“ ’Ow do I know? Up that way?” He pointed north again, past the church.

“To the church? To St. Bartholomew’s?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, sweet ’eart, to the cabbies wot usually wait around there. Best place ter get one.”

“Oh.” She felt the heat rush up her face. “Yes, of course. What did the other woman look like, did you say? Can you remember? What was she wearing?”

“Wot d’yer think I am? Course I can’t remember. It weren’t nothing special, I can tell yer that. ’Cept ’er gloves. She ’ad real good gloves on. Leather. ’And-stitched, wi’ a little piece o’ toolin’ on the cuff, about ’ere.” He pointed to his wrist. “Must a lifted ’em, or ’ad a customer wi’ a lot o’ money.”

“Can you describe her a bit more? What was her skin like? Her teeth?”

“Wot?”

“Her skin? Her teeth?” Hester repeated.

“ ’Ow do I know?” the peddler said indignantly. “ ’Er teeth were just like … teeth! Kind o’ good, come ter think of it.”

Hester felt her heart racing. “Little bit crooked at the front, but nice?”

“Yeah. That’s right. Yer know ’er? She one o’ yours, then?”

“Perhaps.” Was he right, or had she put the idea into his mind and he was simply trying to please her, and get rid of her questions? “Thank you.” She finished the sandwich and thanked him again, then walked quickly toward the place he had pointed to for the hansom cabs.