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Winnie wasn't in so early, so she left a note with her address and an invitation for Winnie to call as soon as possible.
    The cab continued on through narrowing streets.
    Exeter did not have the slums of London, but like any large town, it had poverty of its own, and the shortest route to her new home took her straight through it. The driver took her past factories and dilapidated rooming houses. Glimpses down the narrow lanes between them revealed small children playing in the gutters, splashing in the water from last night's rain, water mixed no doubt with the droppings from slop buckets. Young beggars stood on the corners, rushing to her cab and asking for pennies every time her driver was forced to slow down.
    She wanted to give some of her wealth away, but she knew where the generosity would lead. The poor would flock to the cab like geese at a morning feeding until the boldest of them realized that her voluntary generosity could be easily bypassed.
    So she kept her eyes straight ahead and ignored any approaches.
    In the narrow passage between two buildings, she saw a woman leaning against a man. her skirts lifted and wrapped around them both. Later she spied another woman leaning on a man's arm, both obviously drunk or drugged. The woman's hand against the man's dark coat revealed two missing fingers. Her skirt was ripped and filthy. Had one of these factories maimed her, then spit her out when she could no longer work? Had pain driven her to drugs or drink?
    Mina tried to keep her eyes straight ahead, but she kept glancing at the sadness around her—women leaning against sunlit doorways, women holding children as ragged as they were, women in taverns, on benches in workyards sharing bread.
    And last, a copper-haired young woman whose blue dress and bonnet were worn, but clean and mended. She had just left a workhouse, and her expression appeared desperate. But there was still color in her cheeks, and she appeared well fed. Most likely this wasn't the sort of work she was used to, Mina decided. Her driver had only traveled on a few hundred feet before Mina rapped her umbrella on the side of the cab and asked him to stop.
    Stepping out of the cab, Mina called to the woman. She wasn't surprised when the woman looked at her as if she might know her. As Mina suspected, she had been someone's servant. "What is your name?" Mina asked as the woman approached her.
    "Estelle Toth, mum. Essie." She smoothed back a lock of honey colored hair that had escaped from under her bonnet.
    "And are you employed, Essie?"
    "No, mum. I was. I was a maid for Judge Charles Proctor and his wife."
    Judge Proctor. Mina frowned, trying to recall why the name sounded so distasteful. "And you are no longer there?"
    "No, mum. I had a disagreement with Judge Proctor."
    Mina suddenly recalled a piece of gossip about the man, told her by one of the children's nurses at the hospital. Given the attractiveness of the girl, Mina could easily guess the reason for the disagreement. "Can you read?" she asked.
    "A bit. More than I need to get by."
    "Can you provide a reference?"
    "Only Mrs. Proctor, mum. But she is an invalid and may not be up to answering your inquiry."
    "I'll check with her anyway. Can you come by my home the day after tomorrow?"
    Essie sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, mum. I need to find something sooner, and if I do, then it wouldn't be right to desert my new employer."
    Mina had always prided herself on knowing real character when she saw it, and she was sure she saw it now. "Then you shall start as my maid immediately," she said. "Can you come with me now?"
    "I'll need to collect my things, but I can be there by two."
    Mina wrote down her name and an address and pressed the paper and a coin into Essie's hand. "Get something to eat and someone to help you bring your bags."
    As the cab pulled away, Mina watched Essie stroll down the street toward the rooming houses, walking faster now than before. Mina had given Essie a most