He opened his eyes to find himself lying on a leather couch, with Evie beside him.

‘Steady,’ she said.

‘Where is she?’

‘Who?’

‘Her. She was standing there-I saw her-where is she? Ouch!’

‘Don’t move. You had a bad fall.’

‘I’m all right,’ he croaked, trying to rise. ‘I’ve got to find her.’

‘Ruggiero, who are you talking about?’ she asked frantically, fearful that his wits were wandering.

‘That woman-she was there-’

‘Do you mean the one by the track?’

‘You saw her?’

‘She was in the stand with me. When you crashed she rushed over and helped you.’

He stared at her, scarcely daring to believe what he heard.

‘Where is she?’

‘I’ll fetch her. By the way, she only speaks English.’

‘English?’ he whispered. His voice rose. ‘Did you say she was English?’

‘Yes. Ruggiero, do you think-?’

‘Get her here, for pity’s sake!’ he cried hoarsely.

Evie slipped out.

While he waited Ruggiero tried to stand, but fell back at once, cursing his own weakness. But inwardly he was full of wild hope. It hadn’t been imagination. She had returned, her arms outstretched to him, as so often in hopeless dreams. Now it was real. At any moment she would walk through that door-

‘Here she is,’ Evie said from the doorway, standing aside to usher in a young woman.

At first he saw only a tall, slender figure with long fair hair, and his heart leapt. In a movement that afterwards caused him agonies of shame, he reached out an eager hand, said her name. Then the mist cleared and he found himself looking at a face that was gentle and pleasant, but not beautiful-and not the one his heart endlessly sought.

‘Hallo,’ she said. ‘I’m Polly Hanson. I was watching, and I’m a nurse, so I tried to help.’

‘Thank you,’ he murmured, dazed.

The world was in chaos. He’d thought he’d found Sapphire. Instead, here was this prosaic female whose passing resemblance was just enough to be heartbreaking. Once more Sapphire was only a ghost.