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life, to her own wits.’
    â€˜And to you.’ The Captain’s face was as impassive as he said this as that of the strange young man to whom he was talking. He was taking nothing on trust, not even the child’s rescuer. He was also showing little of the humble subservience usually offered in England by those of the lower classes to their superiors.
    â€˜I was an instrument, merely,’ drawled Cobie, ‘there to see that she was not caught again.’
    â€˜You were one of Madame’s clients?’
    â€˜After a fashion, yes.’
    Cobie was languid, unapologetic. ‘Now let us speak of her disposition. She told me that her stepfather had sold her to the house.’
    Since he was a good Salvation Army man, the Captain could neither curse nor blaspheme, but the sound which escaped from him could have been construed as either.
    â€˜Exactly,’ agreed Cobie. ‘The vile business is run from the top floors of Madame Louise’s sumptuous house—I’m sure you know that without me telling you.’
    â€˜Yes—and I can do nothing. Evidence which would stand up in court is impossible to find. I cannot even do as much as you did tonight.’
    â€˜Which is little enough. So many sparrows fall. I was privileged to save one—not more. Now, what shall we dowith this one poor sparrow?’ Cobie was pleased to see by his expression that the Captain took the Biblical allusion.
    â€˜Whom God has permitted you to rescue.’
    The Captain was rebuking him, no doubt of that.
    â€˜God.’ Cobie raised his beautiful eyebrows. ‘Ah, yes, the All Powerful. Who allows so many to fall into the pit…so many sparrows to fall…and who put Lizzie in the way of her captors. No matter, I will not refine on theological points with you—only ask what may be done for her.’
    Cobie’s smile was cold, not really a smile at all. ‘Money is not a problem, sir.’
    He put his hand into his jacket pocket, pulled out his purse, and opened it. A cascade of golden sovereigns fell onto the dirty deal table which stood between him and the Captain.
    â€˜This is merely the beginning, a token of good intent.’
    The Captain said, ‘Who, and what, are you buying? God, salvation, me or the child?’
    Cobie answered him in his most sardonic mode. ‘All of them, sir, all of them. Everything is for sale, including salvation, and may be bought either by money—or by love. If your conscience will not allow you to help such a sinner as I am, then I shall take the child elsewhere to find those who are not so particular, but who will offer us assistance.’
    The money was back in his purse and he was striding to the door. Oh, the damnable, monstrous arrogance of him, thought the Captain—but Lizzie’s rescuer had said ‘us’, associating himself with the child, and he would be failing in his Christian duty to refuse her succour because of the nature of the man who was asking for it on her behalf.
    He thought that the stranger had a contempt for the whole world—himself included. He must not allow that tosway him. There were two souls to save here—not one. In some fashion it was not the child who had the greater need.
    He said to Cobie’s back, ‘Wait one moment. There is a home where I may place her temporarily, where she will be safe. We have a shortage of permanent accommodation.’
    â€˜More fallen sparrows than you can deal with?’
    â€˜If you like.’
    â€˜Then I will make you a proposition. Take Lizzie Steele into your permanent care, and I will give you enough money to buy, equip and maintain a house large enough to give shelter for up to twenty such, where they may be schooled and cared for until they are old enough to make their own way in the world.’
    â€˜Dare I believe that you mean what you say, sir?’
    â€˜No one,’ Cobie told him, and his voice was deadly, ‘has ever had