Perry is recounting an anecdote about Mangan letting a model get frostbite because she was made to sit for so long unclothed in his unheated studio. Charlotte laughs a little too brightly, and then calls for more brandy. Bram cannot bear the thought of their time together coming to an end so soon, so he simply lets Perry pour them each another measure from the pathetically small bottle that was intended for Mangan. He looks up at her and finds her staring back at him. He wishes more than anything that they could be alone together, for he knows she will not speak to him in the way she began to in the garden the other night so long as there are other people to hear what she has to say.

Whether or not she is aware of the extent of his inner turmoil he cannot tell, but he is certain she senses something of it. At last she casts her eyes down and, slowly, reluctantly, he likes to believe, withdraws her hands, setting them demurely in her lap. Charlotte and Perry are laughing loudly at a shared joke.

Lilith stands and begins to button her coat. “I am sorry to break up the party,” she says with somewhat forced cheerfulness, “but I really think Charlotte and I should be going.” She glances around the room which is now filling with more boisterous drinkers.

Bram leaps to his feet, his chair scraping the floorboards as he does so.

“Of course,” he says. “We shall find you a cab.”

Charlotte and Perry both protest, but follow nonetheless as Lilith takes Bram’s arm once more. Outside the weather has worsened, so that the icy blast that blows down Cleveland Street seems to carry in it splinters of ice. They cast about for a hansom or a motor cab, but all that pass are already occupied. Perry and Charlotte, fueled by the coarse brandy, wave and whistle madly in the hope of summoning some sort of transport. Bram stands at the curb with Lilith. Neither of them speaks, and there is a palpable tension between them now. The bleak, gray light of the winter afternoon perfectly matches Bram’s mood, for he can see no possible way of improving his standing in Lilith’s eyes. She is the daughter of a duke, fabulously wealthy, and beautiful, and could have the pick of all the eligible men in the country. He is the son of a modestly successful steel magnate, with less than a shilling of his own, and a chosen career that might see them both starve.

“Hey!” yells Perry. “We’ve found one!” He signals wildly to indicate the carriage pulling to a halt a little farther up the street.

“Come along, Lily!” Charlotte calls as she runs after it.