Then Daniel came out, his face grave and tender. He ushered me downstairs and did not speak until we were in the shop once more, with the wooden door to the staircase closed behind us.

‘Hannah, I could cup him, and physic him, and torment him a dozen different ways but I don’t think I, or any other doctor, could cure him.’

‘Cure him?’ I repeated stupidly. ‘He’s just tired.’

‘He is dying,’ my husband said gently.

For a moment I could not take it in. ‘But Daniel, that’s not possible! There’s nothing wrong with him!’

‘He has a growth in his belly which is pressing against his lungs and his heart,’ Daniel said quietly. ‘He can feel it himself, he knows it.’

‘He is just tired,’ I protested.

‘And if he feels any worse than tired, if he feels pain, then we will give him physic to take the pain away,’ Daniel assured me. ‘Thank God he feels nothing but tired now.’

I went to the shop door and opened it, as if I wanted a customer. What I wanted was to run away from these awful words, to run from this grief which was unfolding steadily before me. The rain, dripping from the eaves of all the houses down the streets, was running through the cobbles to the gutter in little rivulets of mud. ‘I thought he was just tired,’ I said again, stupidly.

‘I know,’ Daniel said.

I closed the door and came back into the shop. ‘How long d’you think?’

I thought he would say months, perhaps a year.

‘Days,’ he said quietly. ‘Perhaps weeks. But no more, I don’t think.’

‘Days?’ I said uncomprehendingly. ‘How can it be days?’

He shook his head, his eyes compassionate. ‘I am sorry, Hannah. It will not be long.’

‘Should I ask someone else to look at him?’ I demanded. ‘Perhaps your tutor?’

He took no offence. ‘If you wish. But anyone would say the same thing. You can feel the lump in his belly, Hannah, this is no mystery. It is pressing against his belly, his heart and his lungs. It is squeezing the life out of him.’

I threw up my hands. ‘Stop,’ I said unhappily. ‘Stop.’

He checked at once. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘But he is in no pain. And he is not afraid. He is prepared for his death. He knows it is coming. He is only anxious about you.’

‘Me!’ I exclaimed.

‘Yes,’ he said steadily. ‘You should assure him that you are provided for, that you are safe.’

I hesitated.

‘I myself have sworn to him that if you are in any difficulty or in any danger that I will care for you before any other. I will protect you as my wife for as long as you live.’

I held on to the handle of the door so that I did not pitch myself into his arms and wail like a bereaved child. ‘That was kind of you,’ I managed to say. ‘I don’t need your protection, but it was kind of you to reassure him.’