“Everything is ready for her reception. At least …” Mr Segundus led the way inside. “I am aware that it must be very different from what she is accustomed to …”

At the end of a short stone passage they came to a room which was a pleasant contrast with the bleak and sombre surroundings. It spoke nothing but comfort and welcome. It had been fitted up with paintings and pretty furniture, with soft carpets and cheerfully glowing lamps. There were footstools for her ladyship’s feet if she felt weary, screens to protect her from a draught if she felt cold, and books to amuse her, should she wish to read.

“Is it not suitable?” asked Mr Segundus, anxiously. “I see by your face that it is not.”

Stephen opened his mouth to tell Mr Segundus that what he saw was quite different. He saw what her ladyship would see when she entered the room. Chairs, paintings and lamps were all quite ghostly. Behind them lay the far more substantial and solid forms of Lost-hope’s bleak, grey halls and staircases.

But it was no use trying to explain any of this. The words would have changed as he spoke them; they would have turned into some nonsense about beer brewed from anger and longings for revenge; or girls whose tears turned to opals and pearls when the moon waxed and whose footprints filled with blood when the moon waned. So he contented himself with saying, “No, no. It is perfectly satisfactory. Her ladyship requires nothing more.”

To many people this might have seemed a little cool – especially if they had worked as hard as Mr Segundus – but Mr Segundus made no objection. “So this is the lady whom Mr Norrell brought back from the dead?” he said.

“Yes,” said Stephen.

“The single act upon which the whole restoration of English magic is founded!”

“Yes,” said Stephen.

“And yet she tried to kill him! It is a very strange business altogether! Very strange!”

Stephen said nothing. These were not, in his opinion, fit subjects for the madhouse-keeper to ponder on; and it was most unlikely that he would hit upon the truth of the matter if he did.

To draw Mr Segundus’s thoughts away from Lady Pole and her supposed crime, Stephen said, “Sir Walter chose this establishment himself. I do not know whose advice he took. Have you been a madhouse-keeper long?”

Mr Segundus laughed. “No, not long at all. About two weeks in fact. Lady Pole will be my first charge.”

“Indeed!”