When the cab arrives at the church he makes sure the driver will wait for him and then hurries inside. The vestry door, like that at the front of the church, is unlocked, so that he is able to run across the courtyard to the entrance to the convent itself. He hammers on the iron-studded wooden door and calls loudly. With surprising speed, the nuns arrive. Bram tells them who he is and asks for the only name he recalls Lilith mentioning. When Sister Bernadette steps forward he speaks directly to her.

“Lilith left something in your safekeeping,” he tells her, barely able to sound rational but knowing it is imperative he do so. “I must have it. I must take it to her now. Her life depends upon it,” he explains. “Sister Bernadette, there is not time for me to explain. I believe you know why Lilith trusted you with what was terribly precious to her, terribly important. She chose to tell me of this place, of what she had done, to tell me about you. She would not have done so had she not wanted me to act on that knowledge if the need arose. Please, without the contents of that box, she is lost to us forever.” He is suddenly aware of how mad he must look, making demands in the middle of the night, his hair wild, his bare skin showing through his unbuttoned jacket.

Sister Bernadette considers his request carefully, while the other nuns make their disapproval known.

“Coming here at such an hour, in such a state!” Sister Agnes is furious.

“We should call the police,” says another nun.

“That will not be necessary,” Sister Bernadette assures them. “Sister Margaret, fetch the box belonging to Lady Lilith.”

Sister Agnes objects. “She left it in our care—we ought not to give it up to some drunkard who brings us from our beds!”

“Quickly, Sister Margaret, if you please.” Sister Bernadette is adamant and will not hear any further argument on the matter. “I believe it is what Lady Lilith would want,” she says calmly. When the box arrives, she hands it to Bram. “Do your best for our dear friend,” she tells him.

“Thank you, Sister.” Clutching the box and its priceless contents to him, he runs back to the waiting motor cab. Although the driver is swift and the streets empty, the journey back to Waterloo Place seems desperately slow. Bram feels that all he tries to do moves at a hopelessly leaden pace and that his efforts will be in vain. He reaches Lilith’s apartment just as the concierge is letting Louis in. He too has dressed hastily, though he still manages to appear cool in his expensive wool trousers, waistcoat, and white shirt.

“Cardale, what the devil is all this about? I’ve been told Lilith is unwell? Has a doctor been called?”