It was only when Hester was washing her face in the bowl of water which had been left for her that she suddenly remembered the name. Stonefield. It was the name of the man Monk was searching for in Limehouse! He had said he was a respectable man who had suddenly disappeared, for no apparent reason other than to visit his brother in the East End. And his wife feared him dead.

Surely Enid would have said something, if she had overheard Monk? But Enid had not been in the room, only Monk, Callandra and herself. She was too tired now to turn it over in her mind any further. All she wished was to wash the grit out of her eyes, feel the warm clean water on her skin, and then lie down and at last stop fighting exhaustion and allow it to overcome her.

_ She was wakened by a persistent rocking and a voice in her ear whispering her name over and over. She struggled to consciousness to find a gray light seeping into the room and Genevieve Stonefield's white and anxious face only a foot from hers.

“Yes?” the mumbled, fighting to clear her mind and free herself from the shreds of sleep. Surely it couldn't be morning already? It seemed she had just lain down.

“Miss Latterly! Aunt Enid seems-worse. I dare not leave calling you any longer. I know how tired you must be--but . . .”

Hester hauled herself up, reaching out blindly for her robe, then remembered she did not have one. Even her nightgown was Dingle's. Ignoring the cold-there was no fire in the dressing room, although there was a fireplaceshe went past Genevieve into the bedroom.

Enid was tossing and turning and crying out with pain in a soft, almost childlike whimpering, as if she were completely unaware of her surroundings. She seemed completely delirious. The perspiration stood out on her skin, even though the jug of water and a cloth were on the bedside table and the cloth was still cool and damp when Hester picked it up. A good deal of the sugar water was gone.

“What can we do?” Genevieve asked desperately from just behind her. There was little enough, but Hester heard the fear and the grief in her voice, and felt a quick pity for her. If she was indeed Monk's client, then she had enough tragedy to contend with, without this bereavement added to it.

“Just try to bring the fever down,” she replied. “Ring for some more water, at least two jugs of it, and cool, no more than hand heat at the most. And perhaps we'd better have clean cloths and towels as well.”

Genevieve went to obey, glad to have something specific to do. The relief was naked in her face.

When the water and towels came Hester put them on the table and pulled back the bedcovers, ready to begin. Enid's nightgown was soaked with perspiration and clung to her body.