‘No. Although he’s quite nice to me.’ The thin voice hardened. ‘And, don’t you worry, I know why,’ Miss Orrincourt added. ‘He’s stuck for cash, silly kid, and he wants me to use my influence. He’d got the burns on his doorstep when the jitterbugs cleaned up his place, and then he went to the Jews and now he doesn’t know where to go. He’s scared to turn up at the flat. He’ll have to wait till I’m fixed up myself. Then we’ll see. I don’t mind much,’ she said, moving restlessly, ‘which way it goes, so long as I’m fixed up.’

They faced each other across the bucket-cart. Troy looked at her companion’s beautifully painted face. Behind it stood wraithlike trees, motionless, threaded with mist. It might have been a sharp mask, by a surrealist, hung on that darkling background, thought Troy.

A tiny rhythmic sound grew out of the freezing air. ‘I can hear a cat mewing somewhere,’ said Troy, pulling Rosinante up.

‘That’s a good one!’ said Miss Orrincourt, laughing and coughing. ‘A cat mewing! It’s my chest, dear. This damn night air’s catching me. Can you hurry that brute up?’

Troy stirred him up, and presently they clopped sedately down the one street of Ancreton village and pulled up outside a small chemist’s shop, that seemed also to be a sort of general store.

‘Shall I get whatever it is?’ Troy offered.

‘All right. I don’t suppose there’s anything worth looking at in the shop. No perfume. Thanks, dear. It’s the stuff for the kid’s ringworm. The doctor’s ordered it. It’s meant to be ready.’

The elderly rubicund chemist handed Troy two bottles tied together. One had an envelope attached. ‘For the children up at the Manor?’ he said. ‘Quite so. And the small bottle is for Sir Henry.’ When she had climbed back into the governess-cart, she found that he had followed her and stood blinking on the pavement. ‘They’re labelled,’ he said fussily. ‘If you’d be good enough to point out the enclosed instructions. The dosage varies, you know. It’s determined by the patient’s weight. Dr Withers particularly asked me to draw Miss Able’s attention. Quite an unusual prescription, actually. Thallium acetate. Yes. Both labelled. Thank you. One should exercise care…So sorry we’re out of wrapping paper. Good evening.’ He gave a little whooping chuckle and darted back into his shop. Troy was about to turn Rosinante when Miss Orrincourt, asking her to wait, scrambled out and went into the shop, returning in a few minutes with a bulge in her pocket.