“As to that, I believe we’ve agreed upon everything that we can tonight,” Carrie said. “Elena will continue to write her series of articles on injustices to women, and we hope that some may be published in the national press.”
“And Annabel and I will try to persuade Mr. Samuel Clemens to join us at the rally next month,” the sharp-faced girl said—I believe she was Mildred. “His endorsement could really give our cause the boost it needs. He has a wonderful way with words.”
“Well, he would have, wouldn’t he, being a famous author,” another of the young women said drily.
“Samuel Clemens?” The name was somehow familiar to me.
“Molly, you remember. Samuel Clemens is the author Mark Twain. He came to one of our parties once.”
“So he did.” A picture came into my head of the white hair and bushy eyebrows, and a surprising endorsement of women’s suffrage.
“So tell us about your adventures today while I go and make another pitcher of sangria,” Sid said. “Only talk loudly enough so that I don’t miss anything.”
“Well,” I began, enjoying the shock I was about to give them. “You’ll never guess where I have been today—” I looked around. “Chinatown. My employer is a Chinese man of great wealth.”
“Mercy me,” someone muttered, but the others merely looked interested. Nobody swooned or reached for smelling salts as proper young ladies should have done.
“And what can you possibly be doing for a Chinese man of great wealth?” Gus asked, pretending to be shocked when I knew that little could shock her, in spite of her delicate appearance.
“Ah, well, I don’t think I can share the details of my assignment,” I said. “I assured the gentleman that I would keep our dealings confidential. He is most insistent that I not discuss it with Daniel.”
“Phooey,” Sid said. “As if we’d breathe a word to Daniel. And now that you have tantalized us with the mention of Chinatown, you can’t leave us in suspense.”
“We simply must know, Molly,” Gus said. “Is it something awfully sordid? Will we blanch and swoon at the mere mention of it?”
They chuckled.
“Well, I suppose there is no harm in telling you, as it seems such a prosaic task,” I said. “I’ve been asked to recover a piece of jade jewelry that has been stolen.”
“What a letdown,” Sid said. “A stolen piece of jewelry. That sounds more like a straightforward job for the police.”
“That’s what I said, but he claimed that the police would do nothing to help a Chinese person. He sees them as the enemy.”
“And how does he expect you to recover this stolen jewel?” Sid demanded, leaning back from her route to the kitchen. “Does he think you’re in touch with fences and crooks?”
“I’ve already tried all the pawnshops in the area,” I said, “and most of the jewelers within a mile or so. Frankly I don’t know what else he expects me to do or even why he hired me. Tomorrow I’ll have to go and admit to failure, I’m afraid. And lose a fat fee.”
“It’s strange that he was so insistent about seeking you out in particular,” Gus said. “Surely anyone could pay a call on the pawnshops and jewelers.”
“I agree,” I said. “I have to believe there is more to this than he’s telling me. Maybe I’ll find out tomorrow.”
“Weren’t you worried about going through Chinatown?” one of the women asked. “One hears such fearful stories.”
“Oh, balderdash,” Sarah said before I could answer. “It’s no more dangerous than any other part of the city. Even less, as the Chinese don’t get drunk and accost women.”
I looked at her with amazement. “How do you know so much about it?”
She laughed. “I work just a stone’s throw from Chinatown.”
This seemed to me the most unlikely statement possible. Sarah did not look like a girl who had done a day’s work in her life. She was about to marry an English peer. And the area around Chinatown was one of the most squalid in the city. “You work there?” I spluttered out. “Doing what?”
“Sarah is our champion do-gooder,” one of the women said before Sarah could answer. “She is resolved to save the poor, single-handedly.”
Sarah flushed. “I volunteer at a settlement house, on Elizabeth Street just up from Canal.”
“A settlement house? What exactly is that?”
“An experiment, actually, in which educated, upper-class young people live and work among the poor, thus improving the standard of their living. We work mainly with destitute girls and women, some of whom we’ve saved from prostitution.”
“There are certainly plenty of brothels on Elizabeth Street,” I said, and did get surprised looks this time.
“I worked on a case there once,” I explained. “So does your family approve of your work?”
“Not really, but they tolerate it, knowing my temperament,” Sarah said. “Most of my fellow workers actually live at the house, but my mother was so upset at the idea that I just help out by day. And so now she puts up with it, knowing that I’ll be safely and suitably married soon and living far away from slums.”