In the end, the decision wasn't a hard one. The proposition was too lucrative to pass up, what with the payments for my university school debt continually amassing interest. Thus I informed Dobbs the very next day and he made the arrangements.

I was to start under the employ of Lady Eizenstrauss a little under a week later. Never one to be complacent simply to wait, however, I used the spare time during the following evenings to prepare. In my case, working at a well-off public records office had its perks, allowing me pretense to borrow a few old street maps that saw little use.

And of course, there was the issue of what to wear. Even if I wasn't likely to meet the woman herself, I was not about to present myself for employment to a member of the upper class in plainclothes.

Fortunately, it seemed that there would be no significant constraints concerning when the work was to actually be done. As long as the letters or parcels were delivered the same day that I procured them from the Eizenstrauss residence, it was considered a job well-done. Thus, I could still hold my employment at Sullivan's in the morning and make my handovers at night.

Moreover, it was considered commissioned work, so the option to take a day off whenever I willed it was also a welcome benefit.

By the time the long-awaited day arrived, I found myself flipping idly through pages at the office ledger. Reading such documents was indeed a part of my job, but that was not a task I'd employed myself in on this occasion. Rather, I was merely watching the pages fall in time with the clock as the seconds ticked down.

Eagerness and curiosity stoked the fire of this moment of negligence. What would I find at the Eizenstrauss estate? I knew where to go, of course, but not what to expect, and Dobbs had been rather mum on anything except the details of my assignment; no doubt one final effort on his part to prod my nerves before his departure.

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Conjuring the man's name to mind caused my thoughts to shift, and I found myself wondering if perhaps I hadn't treated him too harshly in the past. After all, it was because of that misbegotten man that I should find myself in such an enviable position, and as much as his boorish way often grated on me, I couldn't help but think that truly would miss the miser while secretly crossing my fingers in hopes that the next courier to be assigned to this district would be half as entertaining.

Little did I know at the time that I would come to view his role in this as both a blessing in disguise and an act of treachery.

"Miss Cleyne?" a voice prodded at me from behind. My employer, the eponymous proprietor of the Sullivan's & Son's records office, Edward Sullivan, had approached seemingly without my notice and now gawked curiously. A tall, round man in his late forties with a balding head and a curly brown mustache, I always thought he wore the guise of a merchant rather than that of a civil servant, and as I met his bespeckled eyes, I realized that I, too, rarely saw him so early in the day.

"What on earth are you doing in so late?" he continued, "I would have thought you'd gone home by now."

"Whatever do you mean, sir?" I asked, equally confused. It was Wednesday, after all, and Edward wasn't due in the office until evening. "It's only mid-afternoon."

His face wrinkled in concern, "Miss Cleyne, its half an hour to close."

In my idle daydreaming, a full hour had passed me by.

Realizing this, I quickly sprang from my desk with such urgency that Mister Sullivan himself was taken aback by the suddenness of the actions, for which I shrewdly apologized and hurriedly gathered up my things. "I've errands to run, you see, and I should not be late."

Edward frowned, though more out of worry, I think, than anything else, and I promptly excused myself. Lawfulness not withstanding, I had kept details about my second job from my regular employer. It was difficult to find qualified help for a records office like this one, and I was loathe to make him anxious over the possibility of losing my assistance to someone else.