"I want you to deliver this package to Jeremiah Kenge, my father's surgeon," said Brenda, handing over a small shapeless bundle wrapped up in brown paper and tied with string. "And tell him that Brenda sent you. Tell no-one else."
"But, why?" asked Dorothea.
"I'm not here to answer your questions. Just do it. You will find Jeremiah in the Poxy Goat, an inn on Holborn. And if you even think of looking in the package you will be sorrier than you can possibly imagine. Now run."
Dorothea was hussled out of the workhouse into the cold lunchtime air with the package in her hands. It was the first time that she had been outside for many months. She turned the corner so she was no longer in view and
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