Chapter 17
I ran to the parlor window to look out on the darkening street. No sign of Claudine or the Webbs. No conveyance lingered outside. How long had they been gone? Had the three of them left together? I had a bad feeling about this.
“Surely you are not contemplating climbing out of the window,” Mrs. Engels said.
I shook my head, looking down at the ten-foot drop to the concrete below. Each of the rowhomes along this stretch had elevated front entrances, and the steps were well out of reach of the window. “Is your carriage nearby?”
She came to the window and pointed across the park. “I asked the driver to wait on the far side of the circle until he saw me come out.”
“May we use it?”
“Of course.”
I went over to the door, reaching into my chignon for a hairpin.
“Hattie?” I calle
