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in danger. I’ve got a family to think about now, you know.”
    “Don’t forget it either. How are the girls doing?”
    Sarah gave him a report on Catherine and Maeve, then asked, “How is Brian getting along in school?”
    “Almost as well as his grandmother.” Malloy’s young son was deaf, and he attended a special school. Malloy’s mother escorted him there and back and helped out in the classroom.
    “Is she learning to sign, too?” Sarah asked, delighted.
    “She says somebody needs to be able to talk to the boy.”
    A knock at the door announced Mrs. Keller’s return with a tray of coffee and some freshly baked cookies. Malloy begged off, saying he had to get back to Police Headquarters, but he took a handful of cookies with him.
    He stopped in the doorway on his way out and turned back to Sarah one last time. “Don’t forget what you promised.”
    Sarah couldn’t remember exactly what she’d promised.

    T HE NEXT MORNING, SARAH AWOKE EARLY AND PUT ON the suit she wore when she wanted people to take her seriously. She’d had it for a long time, since she’d left her parents’ mansion to marry Dr. Tom Brandt, but since she hardly ever wore it, it was still presentable, if a bit out of style.
    “You’re pretty dressed up to be going to see a new mother,” Maeve observed over breakfast. She knew Sarah’s routines after living in her house for so many months.
    “I have an errand to run first.”
    “You look pretty, Mama,” Catherine said softly, looking up at her with shining eyes.
    “So do you, my darling,” Sarah said, bending down to give her a peck on the forehead.
    “Will that boy be fetching you in the carriage again?” Maeve asked.
    Sarah looked at her, trying to judge the reason for the question. Jake was a handsome young man, after all, and Sarah didn’t want Maeve getting ideas about him. “Are you hoping to see him again?”
    Maeve looked genuinely shocked. “No! And I don’t think you should see him again either.”
    “Why?” Sarah asked in surprise.
    “He’s a bad one. You can always tell. He’s too cocky and full of himself. He’s mean, too. You can see by the way he treats the horses.”
    “You’re right,” Sarah said, impressed. “He’s a bad one. If he ever comes here again, don’t let him in the house.”
    “But you’re going to that house where he works again, aren’t you?”
    Sarah hadn’t said a thing about her experiences on Sisters’ Row, not wanting to frighten Maeve. But she tended to forget what kind of life the girl had lived before going to the Mission and then coming here to live. Maeve knew more about the world than Sarah ever would.
    “I’ll be fine.”
    Maeve didn’t argue, but she didn’t smile either.
     
     
    S ARAH TOOK THE NINTH AVENUE ELEVATED TRAIN UP TO the Twenty-third Street Station, then walked across town to Fourth Avenue and back down one block to Twenty-second Street. A check of the City Directory that morning had revealed the address of the Charity Organization Society. The United Charities Building, she knew, had been built with donations from the wealthiest families in the city, with an eye to organizing the charitable relief of the poor and solving the problem of poverty once and for all. Many charities were housed here, offering a variety of services. Sarah’s socially elite parents had doubtless contributed to the construction.
    The building was modest but impressive, and Sarah discovered a beehive of activity inside. A young man sat at a reception desk, greeting visitors and directing them to the correct office. For some reason, Sarah had expected to see the needy lined up here to receive assistance, but she saw no trace of the needy. Everyone was well dressed and moving with purpose.
    “Good morning,” the young man said cautiously, as if afraid she was going to make some demand of him. He looked to be about twenty and hadn’t yet filled out. He stared up at her with large, watery eyes. “May I help