The door heaved and shuddered as Harry threw his weight on it and it finally crashed open.

Rose flung herself into his arms and then almost immediately withdrew, her face flaming. ‘How did you know where we were?’ she asked.

‘Becket will explain. Becket, take the ladies to my home and telephone Mr Jarvis to bring round a change of clothes for Lady Rose and for Miss Levine. I will wait for this Billy Gardon.’

‘I can’t see our coats or hats,’ said Rose, looking around. ‘Probably sold them,’ said Daisy.

Becket hustled them down the stairs to where two urchins were guarding the captain’s car. He tucked them in with fur rugs and then got into the driving seat.

There was a long silence and then Daisy said in a little voice, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What came over you, you stupid girl?’ said Rose in glacial tones.

Daisy could only hang her head. Her wrists were so painful, she wanted to scream.

‘I will set you up somewhere,’ continued Rose, ‘and then never want to see you again. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes, my lady,’ said Daisy. She wanted to cry, but she had cried so much during the night that she felt there were no tears left.

At Harry’s home in Water Street in Chelsea, Becket made tea for them. Daisy whispered to him, ‘Can I sit in the kitchen? And have you anything for my wrists?’ She held them out.

‘Come with me,’ said Becket. He led her downstairs to the kitchen and searched in a first-aid box until he found some burn ointment, gently applied it and bandaged her wrists.

‘How did this happen?’ he asked. ‘Did that monster . . .?’

‘Naw,’ said Daisy wearily. She told him about burning the rope from her wrists.

‘Lady Rose should be kissing your feet, not firing you,’ exclaimed Becket.

‘I can’t blame her. She’s had a bad shock. That’s why I’d better stay down here where I belong.’

Billy Gardon nipped up the stairs to his theatre flat, dreaming of riches to come.

He stopped short when he saw the door hanging on its hinges. He rushed into the room.

A man stepped out from behind the broken door, swung him round and smashed a fist into his face.

Billy fell on the floor and, nursing his jaw, stared up into the blazing eyes of his attacker. He saw a tall well-dressed man with a handsome face. The glaring eyes were black and hooded. Billy thought he looked like the devil himself.

‘On your feet!’ roared Harry. ‘You blackmailing little worm!’

Billy crawled onto his knees and then stood shakily on his feet, nursing his jaw.

‘It was only a bit o’ a joke, guv,’ he whimpered.