“Not charity,” Gabriel said. “What this project requires is someone with foresight.”

“I’ve frequently been called progressive in my views,” Haverford acknowledged. “I presume that’s why you asked Compton for an introduction.”

“St. Giles needs progressive thinking. With adequate housing and sewage in place, the Rookery would cease to be a bed of indigence and disease. It could become a respectable neighborhood.”

“You’re talking about reforming the slum.”

“I am.”

“Most would rather eradicate it.”

“They haven’t succeeded yet.”

Haverford chuckled. “No, indeed. Despite all efforts.” He leaned back against the mantel, examining Gabriel. “What’s your interest?”

“I spent most of my youth there,” Gabriel replied frankly. He expected Haverford to recoil, but the man only looked at him with increased attentiveness. “I know firsthand what the good people of the Rookery must endure, living in such vile conditions.”

“And you raised yourself up from those conditions, did you? But you must have done to find yourself in our company. Compton doesn’t invite just anyone to his parties.”

“I’ve made something of a name for myself, yes.”

“Yet still you concern yourself with the Rookery? Most men wouldn’t have looked back.”

Gabriel smiled wryly. “An error on their parts. Men who don’t look back never see what’s coming for them.”

Haverford laughed again before growing serious. “I take an interest in slum conditions. Especially now, with the threat of another cholera epidemic. The sickness finds a ready home in filth and squalor. With the Rookery located in the center of our finest neighborhoods, it puts us all at risk. It doesn’t make sense not to either reform it or to wipe it out completely. Many gentlemen prefer the latter solution.”

“As I said,” Gabriel repeated, “they haven’t succeeded yet.”

Haverford nodded, frowning. “It’s a complex issue. The St. Giles district is governed by a Board of Works. It’s they who are charged with overseeing new construction, sewage, and paving.”

Gabriel had some familiarity with the Board. It was an elected body of gentlemen of the civil parish, covering not only St. Giles, but the larger area of St. George Bloomsbury. “None of them have an interest in preserving the Rookery. I’d say the opposite.”

“That may be true, but the Board is a changeable body. One third of the men are replaced every year. Which makes your timing somewhat fortuitous. Elections for the vacant seats are to be held at the end of this month. It could bring in new blood. New ideas.”

“Or more of the same.”

“That depends on the men who are running,” Haverford said. He gave another thoughtful nod. “We should discuss this more, but not here. No one wishes to hear about sewage plans at a gathering of this sort. Shall we withdraw to the library during the musical portion of the evening? Unless you have a great desire to hear Miss Compton perform.”

“No desire at all,” Gabriel said.