“Now run along,” she said decisively, taking the five florins that Carina had handed to her and putting them in the drawer in front of her. “But, if you don’t get this position, it’s unlikely we shall be able to find you anything else.”

She saw Carina’s eyes widen in fear. Something cruel and unpleasant in her feline nature made Mrs. Macey glad that she had frightened the chit.

‘She looks innocent enough,’ she thought, as she watched Carina go through the door into the outer office. ‘But then one never knows with young women these days.’

In the office there were rows of men and women of varying ages seated on hard benches that ran along both sides of the walls. Miss Cruickshank had put the heavy ledger down on her high desk and her lips had already formed the words, ‘next, please’, when she realised that Carina was standing beside her, holding out her hand.

“Thank you very much for helping me,” Carina said in a soft voice.

Miss Cruickshank took Carina’s hand in surprise. No one who came to Mrs. Macey’s Agency ever bothered to thank her. Because she was touched, she was brusque.

“That’s all right,” she said, her voice over-loud. “I hope you get the position.”

“I hope I do too,” Carina smiled. “And thank you again.”

She walked across the room, her skirts swishing with a little silken sound against the bare boards and disappeared down the narrow, dirty stairway that led to the street below.

Outside, she stood for a moment bewildered by the crowds and the noise of the traffic.

Horse-drawn omnibuses rattled by slowly, being passed by closed carriages drawn by beautifully groomed horses, their silver bridles each topped with a waving plume, while they were outshone in their turn by the dog carts driven by dashing young gentlemen with their shiny top hats at an angle, their grooms sitting behind them with folded arms ready to run to the horse’s head at the first stop.

Carina paused for a moment and looked at the card she carried. On one side was Mrs. Macey’s name and address, on the other was written her destination – 187 Eaton Terrace.

She remembered that the terrace was off Eaton Square and realised that it was too far for her to walk there. Accordingly, she moved a little way down the street until she came to an omnibus stop and climbed aboard the first one that came along.

She refused the conductor’s invitation of room inside and climbed to the top. It was windy, but she felt she wanted to breathe and she wanted too the feeling of being alone.

She found a seat to herself and, closing her eyes tightly, she fought back the tears that threatened not only to run down her cheeks but to sap her self-control.