Anna had no reason not to trust the good doctor’s assessment – after all, he is a learned scholar and she is just a humble maid. But she can’t shake off the fear that Crispijn’s ailment may persist. What will become of his new telescope venture then? He brought back an early prototype with him from Amsterdam and asked Anna to use it to record a description of Saturn for him. She had never seen a planet up close before and the colours were a revelation – pinks and mauves, shot through with mustard yellow, patterned with whorls. It was a new way of seeing and she felt guilty that he could not appreciate the fruits of his research and invention. ‘I’m only happy to see it being used,’ he insisted, placing his hand over hers on the windowsill. Again, she felt the tenderness of his friendship envelop her. She felt her father’s old curse drop away, her loneliness sinking beneath the calm surface of her life here at Sterrenwijck.

Perhaps, combined with the talisman of her mother’s dress, Crispijn’s affection for her can hold back her natural misfortune, as a polder repels the ocean tide. Catharina, for her part, has lavished Crispijn with all the comforts he might want. Mrs Hartog has been kept busy baking and stewing Crispijn’s favourite childhood dishes. Lotte carries them out each night in a kind of formal procession – first soup, then meat and cheese and thick fresh bread slathered with butter. Crispijn was amused, at first.

‘It’s like we always planned,’ he told Anna. ‘When we were children, we used to imagine what kind of feasts we would hold when we were grown and our parents were no longer there to accuse us of being gluttons.’