When Bram arrives home after a shopping errand for Jane he finds the household abuzz. Through the noise he discerns the fact that an invitation has been received for Mangan to attend the Anstruthers’ ball this very evening. Gudrun is to accompany him, and can be seen through the kitchen doorway washing her hair in a bowl, instructing Freedom to heat more water on the stove. The twins are doing their best to dance in the hallway, though they cannot decide who should lead, so keep falling over. Honesty, being the eldest of the girls, is considerably put out at not being allowed to attend and has set up a ceaseless wailing to make her point. Mangan himself can be heard roaring from the bedroom, demanding the whereabouts of his gold cuff links and accusing Jane of having taken them to the pawnshop. George has found the spot in the studio with the best echo so that his bark might be heard above the growing cacophony. Jane spies Bram and distractedly takes the bag of flour and packet of butter from him.

“Bram, dear, don’t just stand there. They are sending the carriage in an hour,” she explains, taking him by the arm and steering him toward the stairs. “Get yourself dressed, do.”

“Me? But surely I haven’t been invited?”

“‘Mangan and Friends’ the invitation read. Gudrun will go, of course, and Perry, and you, dear. Now hurry along. If Mangan’s collar studs are not found within the minute I fear blood will be shed.”

“But … what about you, Jane? Aren’t you coming?”

“Good Lord, no. Who would look after the children? Besides, I’ve nothing to wear, and haven’t the time it would require to make myself look sufficiently presentable.” She stops bustling, just for a moment, and Bram can see she is thinking about what she has just said.

“I could look after the children,” he tells her. “Really, I wouldn’t mind.”

She smiles at him. “You are a dear, sweet boy, but no, it’s better you go. Mangan will want his protégé with him.” She stands gazing into the middle distance so that he wonders if she is looking into her past, or trying to see her future. “Run upstairs, now,” she says, “I believe Perry has a spare set of evening clothes that might fit you.”

He allows himself to be propelled up the staircase, as Jane trots up the rickety wooden treads behind him in answer to Mangan’s cries for help. Before she turns on the landing she pauses, still clutching the butter and flour, and says to Bram, “There will always be sacrifices to be made, living with Mangan. I’m happy to make them, as long as I have him, d’you see?”