Lijsbeth laughs. For a moment, it’s like the old days, everything good between them. Her face transforms as she begins to cough. Her eyes bulge. And then she chokes, splutters. Anna watches on helplessly, feeling as useless as Wolfert, who begins to whine, his white-flecked muzzle appearing anxiously around the curtain. Anna waves him away and bends to retrieve the chamberpot, holding it out to her sister, trying to ignore the chunks of greasy mucus coating the bottom. Lijsbeth’s cough is growing worse each day; she needs to see a doctor. But how will they pay? Anna thinks of her mother’s dress. The gown is worth twenty doctor’s visits at least, maybe more. It could buy medicine, too. Firewood and blankets, a warm cloak, ingredients for nourishing soup. Anna opens her mouth to insist that Lijsbeth sell it, but then she hesitates. It’s not greed that stops her, but what the dress represents – the promise of a life of comfort that no longer exists. They have given up everything. Is it truly wicked to cling to this last link? Lijsbeth sits back at last, her face dripping, too exhausted to speak. As Anna smooths her damp hair off her forehead, it occurs to her that their positions are now reversed. She is the strong one, while Lijsbeth is weak. How did this happen without her noticing? They haven’t always been close, but Lijsbeth is all she has left. If anything were to happen, Anna would be all alone, orphaned in the truest sense of the word. She resolves to get up a little earlier each day to pray for Lijsbeth’s health.

Outside the window, the sounds of voices and carts and horses have begun to build and Anna taps the edge of the chamberpot restlessly. Time is slipping. Maria, the de Witts’ maid, loves to find fault with everything Anna does. She’s probably annoyed at having to share the laundry duties, even though she herself asked Mr de Witt for extra assistance, complaining the load was too much. Anna suspects that Maria resents the favouritism she feels Mr de Witt extends to Anna’s family, as someone formerly belonging to a similar rank. The maid will seize on any excuse to get Anna into trouble.

Lijsbeth senses Anna’s consternation.

‘Go,’ she croaks, waving at the door. ‘I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself. I’ll meet you back here later.’

Anna begins to apologise for Wolfert’s presence.

‘Oh, leave him,’ her sister says, scowling. ‘Honestly, Anna, did you think I didn’t know? He is louder than a herd of elephants.’

Reaching for Anna’s hand, she gives it a quick, hard squeeze. Anna returns the gesture absently, her mind already focused on the tasks ahead.

She has to knock three times on the de Witts’ door before it finally opens.

To her surprise, the master himself stands on the threshold.