"Absolutely vital!" Lamb said earnestly. "The state of public hygiene in the city of London is a disgrace to the Empire! Anyone would think we were the edge of the world, not the center of it!"

Rose drew in her breath, then let it out again. "You are quite right," she agreed diplomatically. "Quite right. It is so very important that we must be absolutely certain that we are correct in all we say. To mislead the House is an unpardonable sin, you know?"

"Yes, yes." He nodded, pushing his eyeglasses up to the bridge of his nose. "What is it you wish from me, Mrs. Applegate? I am sure figures are already known from the companies concerned."

Rose and Hester had already decided on the answer to that. "Naturally, but they have a powerful interest in the number of injuries being as low as possible. And there is the world of difference between an engineer's estimate of an injury and a surgeon's."

"Of course. Please be seated, Mrs. Applegate. And Miss ... Mrs ?"

He waved at Hester without looking at her.

"We would like specifics," Rose continued, sitting upright with a ramrod-stiff back and smiling at him. "Descriptions of actual injuries, and the names of the men concerned, so that it is apparent that we have investigated the matter more than superficially."

Lamb looked uncomfortable.

Rose waited with an air of expectancy, eyes wide, her mouth in a half smile, ready to beam upon him if he should do as she wished. "As full a list as possible," she added. "So we do not seem to be singling out any particular company. That would not do."

Reluctantly Lamb reached into his waistcoat pocket and took out a small key. He rose, opened a file cabinet, and from one of the drawers took out a folder of papers. He returned to the desk and read from them selectively. "I cannot see what use this will be in the House of Commons," he said finally.

He had described accidents and injuries in the blandest terms, using laymen's words, making them seem slighter than they were. Rose might not know that he was being evasive, but Hester did. She spoke for the first time.

"There was an Albert Vincent. His right leg was crushed when a load overturned on him, breaking his femur, I think you said in two places."

"That is correct," he agreed, frowning at her, puzzled as to why she had spoken at all. He had assumed her to be there merely as chaperone, or perhaps a maid of some sort.

"You did not mention the treatment given him. Was that because he died?"

"Died?" He looked appalled. "Why ever should you think that, Mrs.... ?"