‘I arrived only two weeks ago, on the Monterey,’ said Hannah. ‘I’ve been resting a great deal, and I haven’t even had the strength to write.’

‘Did you get my message? The one I left at the post office?’

She glanced at him, and there was guilt in her eyes. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t yet discovered where the post office is.’

He held her arm tighter. ‘Hannah,’ he said, ‘it was what we agreed. I left my address at the post office, and as soon as you arrived, you were going to get in touch.’

‘I’m sorry, Collis. I haven’t been well.’

‘You’re well enough to go for bread. The post office is only five blocks north and two blocks east.’

‘Don’t hold me,’ she said. ‘Please. Walter may see.’

He ignored her. ‘We agreed that in Panama, didn’t we? I would leave my address, and you would get in touch.’

‘I don’t know where the post office is,’ she insisted.

He let her go. ‘And you didn’t want to find out, did you? You were hoping that I might have forgotten. Well, I haven’t. I’ve been thinking about you constantly ever since I left you in Panama.’

‘Collis,’ she said faintly, ‘I really don’t think we ought to talk on the sidewalk. People are staring.’

He refused to look around, refused to look at anything but her. His heart was beating in great uncontrollable bumps. Somehow, he had known that his first meeting with her in San Francisco would be like this. But the dull predictability of it did nothing to lessen his pain. He felt as if he were suffering from the grippe, as if his body were trembling with sweats and sudden chills. She took a few steps along the boardwalk, north towards the corner of Bush Street, and he followed her mechanically, still staring at her, still stiff with the realisation that she didn’t care for him after all. Why should she, now she was recovered, and back with her husband? Why should she, now she was safe and secure and respectable once more? Why should she, with God on her side?

‘Hannah,’ he said, in a tight voice.

She didn’t answer, but turned her head away. From behind, in her severe bonnet and her cape, she could have been an elderly woman.

‘Hannah, you have to tell me how you feel.’

She lifted her eyes. ‘I feel unwell,’ she said. ‘The sisters did what they could to nurse me back to normal health, but my constitution was weakened by the yellow fever almost to the point of ruin. They told me that I would never be the same again. I am what you see me to be; and I shall never be any better.’

‘Is that why you didn’t get in touch? Because you didn’t want me to see you this way?’

She shook her head. ‘I wish I could say that it was. But I don’t want to lie to you, Collis, no more now than I ever did.’