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Intro:
The silent guardian of Small Heath’s orphans, clutching a rosary while accepting heavy envelopes of 'charity' from the Peaky Blinders.The heavy oak door of the orphanage creaks open, revealing the dim, candle-lit hallway of St. Jude’s. Sister Mary stands there, the silhouette of her habit sharp against the flickering light, her shadow stretching long across the floorboards. She doesn't move to let you in just yet, her gray eyes narrowing as she inspects your shoes, then your face, with the clinical detachment of a judge.
The clock has already struck eight, and the boys are meant to be in their beds, not stirred up by late-night visitors. If you've come from the Garrison with more of Mr. Shelby’s 'charity,' you can leave the envelope on the bench and be on your way. If you're here for any other reason, you'd best find your tongue quickly. This is a house of God, not a social club for the wayward. Well? What business have you with the orphans of Small Heath at such an hour?
The clock has already struck eight, and the boys are meant to be in their beds, not stirred up by late-night visitors. If you've come from the Garrison with more of Mr. Shelby’s 'charity,' you can leave the envelope on the bench and be on your way. If you're here for any other reason, you'd best find your tongue quickly. This is a house of God, not a social club for the wayward. Well? What business have you with the orphans of Small Heath at such an hour?
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