Bletchley was quick to his deferential manner, which was pleasing, but at the question he allowed himself to wear a smirk before walking over to the chair and sitting down.
"Oh do take a seat, won't you? This will take a little time."
"I did hear of the misfortune about the young ladies who worked upstairs. Most... inconvenient. I have to say, I thought I might be in a position to help you out. You remember the girls from the Silver Serpent?" He'd let Miles start to connect the dots, watching as the thoughts were evident on Bletchley's face. If there was one person who he could read at the drop of a hat, it was this man.
"Business in Upper Slaughter has dried up to a trickle for them, and poor old Tom has had to let them go. I'm sure that if I asked, they'd only be too happy to come here. I'd even be happy to supplement their wage. I hear you are somewhat out of pocket?" He put on a deeply sympathetic voice, even if he truly only cared about getting the girls placed so he could get his information flowing again.