‘I shall hand it in at a police station,’ said Eleanor. ‘No doubt the gentleman who lost it will be glad of its return.’

And Miss Trent said nothing, but her eyes followed the tiepin as it disappeared inside Eleanor’s reticule and was gone.

Having rallied for a moment, Miss Trent now seemed a little worse. She closed her eyes once more and leaned back, resting her head, where before she had not allowed herself to do so.

‘May I get you a cushion?’ offered Eleanor at once. There were none on the settee. It would mean going again into the bedroom. Would Miss Trent allow such a thing? What might her visitor find there? More tiepins?

‘No, I shall be quite alright. Thank you. You have been most kind.’

Miss Trent clearly wished her angel of mercy to be gone.

Eleanor stood up. She brushed a speck of dust from her skirt. ‘You are certain there is no one I might ask to sit with you?’

‘No, thank you. No one.’

Miss Trent answered in a low voice, her head down. There was no one. To whom would Miss Trent go for help? Eleanor gazed down at the crown of Miss Trent’s dislodged hat, observing the strands of dull brown hair that had come loose and partially covered the back of her bare white neck. It was a beautiful neck, she saw, pale and youthful and unadorned. She observed the gloved hands clasped rigidly together in her lap, the whiteness of her lip where she bit down on it as though to counter some awful pain. Miss Trent was very young. She was very alone.

‘Then I shall leave, if you are quite sure you will be alright?’

‘I shall be. Thank you. You have been so kind.’ A slight flush of Miss Trent’s cheeks showed her relief that her saviour was, at last, departing. She had not asked her saviour’s name. It was entirely possible that, in her distress, Miss Trent had not even observed the face of the woman who had come to her aid. She was a stranger and would remain so.

Eleanor left, abruptly, without looking back, pulling the door shut behind her. She had noticed the spots of blood on the carpet at Miss Trent’s feet. They had not been there when Miss Trent had sat down.

Outside the sun had begun to lower in the western sky. Three weeks shy of the winter solstice and the days were short but there was, as yet, no chill in the air and the sky remained a vivid winter blue with not a cloud in sight. A lorikeet swooped overhead in a brilliant flash of blue and green and orange.