“Have you ever been to the Piccadilly Playhouse?” Mr. Armitage asked.
Mr. Larsen lifted Millie off the cart and put her on the ground. “No. Why?”
“Why aren’t you at work today?”
Mr. Larsen’s jaw set. “I don’t see how that’s any businessof yours.”
“Just answer the question.”
Mr. Larsen took Millie’s hand and led her away.
I stepped in front of him. “I need to speak to you, but I don’t think Millie should overhear what I have to say.”
“Then don’t say it.”
“I have to, and I will say it right here if you don’t step away.”
He glanced down at the girl. “Stay here, Millie. You understand? Don’t move.”
I walked a few feet away and he followed. Mr. Armitage joined us. “We know Millie is not your child. She’s Pearl’s, and Mr. Culpepper is the father.”
Mr. Larsen rubbed the back of his neck and his shoulders slumped. He was a deflated, defeated man. “She’s as good as ours. We’ve raised her. No one knows that she’s not ours, only Pearl, Culpepper and now you.” He shrugged. “What of it?”
“Was Pearl going to take her back?”
“No!”
“Did you need more money for Millie’s upkeep?”
“I can provide for my family,” he ground out. “She’s just a little girl. She doesn’t cost much.”
“But you’ve lost your job, haven’t you?” I pressed. “Have you taken in boarders? Is that why your parlor is closed off, because you’re sleeping in there while your boarders rent your bedroom?”
“I don’t have anything to say to you. Good day.”
“Then I’ll speak to your wife.”
“She’s not in.”
“We know she confronted Pearl about money at the Playhouse, and lied to me about it. Indeed, she told me she’d never been there. I think she learned the layout of the theater then went back the following day and lured Pearl up to the dress circle on some pretext or other then pushed her over the balcony.”
He shook his head, but his gaze did not meet mine.
“Mrs. Larsen hated her sister, didn’t she? She hated her for being more beautiful, more popular, more talented. She hated that she wouldn’t take responsibility for her child. A childthat your wife isn’t particularly fond of. A child she calls simple.”
He stepped forward, his hands curled into fists. He bared his teeth in a growl. “She’s not simple.”
Mr. Armitage grabbed his arm and jerked him back, away from me.
“No, she’s not.” I looked at the girl, taking a tentative step forward, one hand extended in front of her. “She’s quite musically talented. Unfortunately, your wife couldn’t see it, and nor could Pearl. But you saw it. You love her and want to nurture her talent. But that requires money.”
“She can develop her music ability here, without instruments or a teacher. She’s content enough and there’s time later for her to have proper lessons. I’ll pay for them when I get a new job. You’ll see. I’ll pay for her music lessons if I have to work my fingers to the bone. We didn’t need help from Pearl.”
He was right. Millie was young. They had time. So why did they need the money now? It was clear he adored his daughter, although his wife wasn’t quite so loving. To her, Millie was not quite right. But it was clear to me she wasn’t so simple that she couldn’t function in society. With some love and patience, she could grow up to be like other girls.
Millie took another tentative step forward. “Papa?”
Mr. Larsen spun around. “Millie, wait!” He raced to her and took her hand then led her back to the cart.
