Charley prided herself on a lot of things. Her cleverness. Her wit, which she thought was quite excellent for her age. The nimbleness of her fingers, especially with all the practice she'd obtained finding handholds while climbing or pilfering things that no one seemed to be paying much attention to. There were others talents of hers she might boast about another time, but the one she prided herself in the most was how fast she was.

The urchin knew she was a speedy little thing, dashing away from would-be attackers and the justice of slow-witted grown-ups.

Not this time. Charley's shirt snagged on something and it gripped her throat, so much that she felt her feet go out from under her. They scrambled for purchase as her hands flew to her cap, heedless of the flowers she had been carrying. Worse yet, the muffin dropped carelessly to the ground, gathering dirt and worse before turning its taunting, once-bitten face back up at her.

"Owww!" Panic set in while the urchin clambered to her feet, tugging at her shirt to free it from whatever had caught her.

Make that whoever had caught her.

The tall, dark figure of the constable loomed up over her, a spectre of menace upon her day. As if today hadn't been bad enough, getting stiffed on a tip, having no coin for some food and now getting caught by the coppers. Charley squirmed in his grip, pulling and ducking to loosen the hand holding her shirt collar. It may as well have been an iron shackle around her throat, for all the good her efforts made. "Lemme go!"

A desperate wheeze whistled through her lips, and Charley tried again, "I can't breef!"

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