I hope this finds you and the Mopsies well, and our Rosie, too. Lewis assures me that this letter will find Athena with no trouble, saving us the bother of writing in cypher because the post must go through the English and Prussian mail systems. I hope he is right. I used to think Lewis a useless bloke, but I am revising my opinion. He ent much for brawn, but he’s a wizard at the gambling table and has rescued me a time or two.
I don’t have much time for gambling now, since I keep banker’s hours these days. Here’s what I’ve found out.
I’ve begun on the shop floor at the Morton Glass Works, in what they call development. That’s a fivepenny word for inventions, so I knew I was in the right place straightaway. They put me to sweeping up and carrying parts, which some might despise as humble work, but which gives me the run of the floor and the supply rooms. I keep them plenty clean, I can assure you.
I haven’t been here but a few days and already I’m getting a feel for the place. In this building they don’t make things out of glass—that’s all in the big manufactory that fronts on the river. In here I was expecting to see lamp globes and windows and the storm fronts for airships and whatnot, but there’s none of that. They must do the development of ordinary things someplace else. Here they seem very concerned about electricks and glass conductors for them. I ent figured out what exactly they’re for, but I will.
All I know is it has something to do with the London Electrick Company. Ent they the outfit what kept our Dr. Craig locked up in Bedlam over her power cell?
I’ll keep my ear to the ground while I’m sweeping it.
I remain your servant,
Stephen McTavish (Snouts)
PS: Lewis says he tinkered with the pigeon so’s it would find us at Wilton Crescent like the house were an airship. I never would’ve thought that was possible, but your letters are arriving safe and sound. You two know that’s against the law, right?