Missy was more than delighted and had a spring in her step as she followed him. "Thank you, constable, sir! You're so kind to a lady. I'm lucky to have found you!" She swung her arm back and forth in delight. Finally, she came upon the brothel and tsked. "Why do men come here? " She asked aloud. "When they are married?" She looked to Francis as if he would have an answer. "Is it because of variety or they know what they're doing?"

The constable smirked down at her – a mean, self-satisfied look.

“’Cause they don’t like their wives, lady.”

With that, he proceeded to the woman at the desk. Glanced at the prices behind her, and fished out a rather feminine looking coin purse.

“One blow,” he said, slapping down the money.

The woman squinted, picked up a coin and held it up in the sun before looking back to Missy.

“And you?”

Missie was surprised by the exchanging of money and even more when it was her turn. She gripped her small purse and leaned towards Francis in a panic as she whispered loud enough to be heard by anyone in the room. "I don't have the strongest lungs, how much do we have ta blow? Is there maybe something else I can do? "

It was the woman at the counter who laughed aloud and shook her head.

“Here, dear, let me show you around – just one moment.”

She looked to Officer Coburn and nodded her head toward a staircase.

“Just find an open door,” she said to Coburn, then patted Missie on the arm with an amused look. “This way, ma’am. I think one of the lasses has a jumping rope …”

Missy was confused at the laugh but it happened often. She looked delighted and let the woman lead her away. "Oh that does sound fun. How much do I have to pay for that?" No one had answered her, but at least she didn't have to pay to blow something.

The young woman squinted at her, putting a finger to her chin in thought.

“One shilling.”

She led her to a room with a bunch of cots; mostly vacant, but one young boy laying down with a book glanced up at them then pretended not to notice them.

“Vinny, do you know where the jumping rope is?”

Vinny ignored them. The young woman sighed and waved a hand.

“I’ll find it, give me just a moment.”

Missy looked very lost but dug into her purse. A shilling seemed like a lot to just use a jump rope, but perhaps there was something special about it. Maybe she'd give her advice on how to do it better.

"Ah, it's alright. I don't know how long it'll take my friend to blow whatever it is he's blowing. Maybe it's dandelions? I do like blowing dandelions."

“I don’t think he’s the one doing the blowing,” the young woman said offhandedly, then slapped a hand over her mouth.

She ducked under beds, rifled through a closet, then went to the child and yanked him forward. Scowling, she pulled a jump rope from behind his pillow.

“Thanks, Vinny,” she deadpanned, then returned to Missy with a friendly face.

She held out the rope to her by the handles, then stepped back and took a seat on the edge of a nearby cot.

“So, is that your … brother?”

Missy tilted her head in confusion. "Then what does he need blown that he'd pay for? He got a set of lungs right?" Of course she'd just said hers weren't good. Maybe his was the same.

"Ah, no no. We just met! He brought me here to look for my husband. I don't know why he'd do such a thing and then go pay to get something blown." She pouted in confusion but began to jump rope, careful not to hit anything. "You seen a man around here by the name of Herbert? I don't care what he's doing.. I suppose." She did care though. "He just keeps running off.."

Should she be talking about her clients? Probably not. Was she paid enough not to? Ehhhhhhh.

“That doesn’t narrow it down much, dear. How big’s his- ahem, Herbert who?”