When Zeah stepped outside, it was already dark. The lamplighters were running slightly behind in their duties. Two of them were making their way up the street, one on either side, lighting the gas streetlights with their long-handled wicks. The trolleys were already shutting down for the night, so Zeah had to walk several blocks until he found a cab still on duty. This particular one was a shabby old carriage, with an unhappy and probably flea-bitten horse, not long for the glue factory, if his speed was any indication. The head butler gave orders to be taken to the docks, and sat back to ponder the fact that in the servant quarters at home at that exact moment, Yuah and the others would be finishing their evening meal and would be looking forward to one of Mrs. Colbshallow’s carefully crafted cakes.

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