‘Wollstonecraft,’ Mrs Glassford said again, as though repetition would invoke some kind of understanding. ‘Don’t tell me you have not read her Vindication of the Rights of Woman?’

Sarah shook her head.

‘That is a deficiency we should rectify immediately. You must have my copy.’

‘Thank you,’ Sarah said. ‘What happened after that?’

‘I was sent to live with a maiden aunt as punishment. Father thought it would teach me about the lonely life of a spinster – a redundant woman, as he put it – but the experience had quite the opposite effect. My aunt opened my eyes to the world. She hardened my resolve. She was a committed bluestocking: enthusiastically devoted to academic pursuits and adamant that women were equal to men intellectually. She was an inspiration.’

‘Was?’

‘Yes. She died some years ago. I was inconsolable. My father suggested that she had overtaxed her brain, which left her vulnerable to bodily corruption or some such pernicious nonsense. I resolved at that point to have nothing further to do with him, to live my life on my own terms, free from male domination. But so few respectable occupations are available to a woman. It was a struggle; a lonely one at that.’

‘How did you manage?’

‘Private tutoring, piano lessons, that sort of thing. And my aunt left me some money, which was a help.’

‘And then?’

‘And then I met my husband. I had not thought to marry, but he surprised me. When we first encountered one another, I was terribly rude to him, and he later told me that was what drew him to me. He had not thought to marry either. He sought a life distant from convention, one full of excitement and challenge. “There is no room on this voyage for passengers, only crew.” That was what he used to say.’

She smiled sadly at the memory.

‘Our merry crew of two. We thought we were bound for a life of discovery and adventure, but alas, it was not to be. A few weeks in India was all that it amounted to in the end.’

Mrs Glassford sipped her tea, her eyes misting. Sarah felt a lump in her own throat. What was worse, she wondered: having the dreams of such adventures taken away or knowing already that your life together will be cut short?

She felt the need to change the subject, and to break the growing silence.

‘What was it like, India?’

‘Hot. So stiflingly hot. And dusty. But also exotic and invigorating. I was not there long, but it was enough to convey what a tiny corner of the world this is.’

‘Did you see elephants?’

Mrs Glassford seemed surprised by the question.

‘I did. Why do you ask?’

‘I saw an elephant once, at the Edinburgh Zoological Gardens in Broughton Park. As close as I will ever get to India, I should think.’

‘Nonsense. You are young yet. You do not know what your life will become.’