‘I can see that.’ Harry pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘Where do you get the money to fund all this?’

‘I use my allowance.’ Kate had a feeling that Harry Trader would spot an untruth, and there did not seem to be any point in lying. She filled a cup and passed it to him. ‘That’s all the sugar we have, so please don’t take too much.’

‘Are you telling me that your pin money is the only funding you have for all this?’ Harry waved away her offer of sugar.

‘If you’re afraid I won’t pay next month’s rent, it will be paid on the dot.’

‘But it will be your money? I thought you were running a charity.’

Kate sipped her tea. ‘Does it matter, Mr Trader? You’ll get the rent, so don’t worry.’ She put down her cup and went to open the bag of flour, but her bottom lip quivered.

‘What’s the matter?’

Kate sank down on the nearest chair. ‘Weevils. I can’t use this flour.’ Tears welled in her eyes despite her efforts to suppress them.

Trader took a handful of coins from his pocket. ‘My winnings from cards last evening,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘I dare say you frown on gambling, but this will buy bread and some meat to add to those vegetable you purchased this morning.’

‘Why would you do that? You don’t really approve of what I’m doing, I can tell.’

‘Now that’s where you’re wrong. I think it’s a very good thing, and it’s kept the police away for the last few weeks, so I applaud your efforts. It suits me to be generous.’

Kate was torn between the desperate need to take the money and the desire to throw it back in his face. She had no particular feelings about gambling – it was none of her business what other people did – but taking the funds from him would make her beholden to a known criminal. On the other hand, if she allowed her pride to overrule her heart it would leave desperate people to go hungry. She reached across the table and scooped the money into her hand.

‘Thank you, Mr Trader. I’ll send Jenny out to buy bread and a couple of large beef bones when she gets here.’

He held up his hand. ‘There’s one condition.’

‘Oh dear. What is it?’

‘That you stop calling me Mr Trader, and you allow me to call you Kate.’

She smiled in spite of her attempt to maintain a serious expression. ‘I think I can manage that, Harry.’