Catharina shakes her head. ‘Impossible. My spirit is dead and I’m sure it will not be long until my body follows. I thought it died once and Crispijn brought it back to life. But without him, it is impossible.’ She looks away, as if the very sight of Anna standing there offends her. ‘Leave now. Take your belongings and go.’

Anna waits for her to change her mind, but Catharina grows suddenly angry. Sobbing now, she throws a bolster that bounces off Anna’s chest.

‘Go!’ she says.

Anna flees. Crying, she runs upstairs and begins to throw her things inside the trunk she brought with her. The strings of an apron snare her hand; she shakes herself free, sobbing. Reaching into the drawer, she touches silk and pauses. Her mother’s dress. She draws it out. It shines dully in the light from the window. Holding it to her, she inhales the faded scent of sweat and perfume. She thinks of the night at the masque when Crispijn was so kind. Her eyes fly open. She bundles up the dress, shoves it into the trunk. Then, fumbling in the bottom drawer, she pulls out the Dutch tears Catharina gave her and wraps them in a handkerchief. There. She is done. She arrived with nothing but hope and now she is leaving with a child in her womb. Unmarried, she will have no choice but to give up. There is only one place she can go.

On her last night in The Hague, Anna checks that she has packed everything she plans to take with her to her new life. Unwrapping the Dutch tears from the handkerchief, she rolls them in her hands, closing her eyes as the cool glass kisses the skin of her palms. Their beauty makes her nervous. When she arrived on the Horsts’ doorstep three weeks ago and begged Maarten to take her in, he smirked before accepting her offer and outlining the terms of her employment, one of which is the master’s right to ownership. A maid may reasonably possess a few worthless trinkets – buttons, a lice-comb, a needle and thread – for how else can she perform her duty otherwise and keep herself neat and tidy? Anything more valuable must be declared. Maarten knows about the silk dress – she cannot hope to hide that, but she cannot bear to think of Catharina’s gift being leered and pawed at by greedy Maarten.