He nodded. ‘That is as well—I do not like to use euphemism when plain speaking will suffice. I understand the charge against the young woman will likely be dropped.’

Eleanor was not sure she had heard him correctly. ‘But—that cannot be so!’

She felt herself disorientated and the great injustice that had been done to her seemed, by his words, to be condoned.

‘The unfortunate young woman was arrested at her home and not—’ he coughed delicately ‘—whilst the act itself was being performed. And the doctor—whoever this devil is—cannot be located. Absconded.’

‘And so she gets away with this … this abhorrent act?’

Winks took a conciliatory approach: ‘It is for God and not us mortals to sit in judgement.’

But Eleanor wondered if God did indeed sit in judgement of Miss Trent. It seemed to her he favoured her; that his justice, if one could call it such, was partisan and arbitrary.

‘And for all we know,’ said Winks, oblivious, ‘it may have been a simple miscarriage.’

‘You cannot seriously believe that?’

For a moment Eleanor was too stunned to think. And Winks offered no reply to her question.

‘And what of the other party—the man?’ she persisted, when she had calmed herself a little. ‘We know she is not married. What do we know of him?’

‘I do not believe we know anything of this man.’

‘And so he gets away with it too. Scot-free.’

‘Again, we may only speculate. Perhaps he colluded with Miss Trent in this terrible act and perhaps he is utterly ignorant of it.’

‘If a man is utterly ignorant in a matter such as this it is because he chooses to be.’

Eleanor stood up. She went to the window. It afforded a view of rooftops, chimneys, the wall of another part of the hospital—the boiler room, perhaps, as great bellows of steam erupted periodically from a series of vents. When he had been deputy superintendent, Ambrose had had rooms overlooking Macquarie Street. He had had two secretaries. Today she had walked straight in to see him. She did not know why she thought of this, the thought crowded into a head already crammed to bursting.

‘Ambrose—’ she turned back to face the ageing administrator ‘—would you know if any man had visited her during her time here?’

‘I would not. But I do not believe she would have been allowed any visitor during this time that she has been on a police charge.’

‘Is she permitted visitors now?’

He regarded her with eyes almost as old as the century. ‘You wish to visit her, Eleanor?’

‘I feel it my duty, Ambrose. She is clearly a lost soul.’