Kydd grabbed his arm and leered at him. "Don't y' see, Nicholas," he slurred, "it's th' sea right enough. It's taken m' Rosalynd as it can't abide a rival!"

"What? Such nonsense."

Kydd slumped in his chair. "I knew ye'd not unnerstan' it," he said, almost inaudibly, and closed his eyes before Renzi could continue. "No point," he mumbled, "no point a-tall."

"Tom, I have to slip out for a space," Renzi said. "I'll be back directly."

For a long minute Kydd said nothing. Then, with his eyes still closed, he said, with intense weariness, "As y' have to, m' frien'."

"Why, Nicholas! What a surprise!" Sensing the gravity of the visit, Cecilia added hastily, "Do come in. Mrs Mullins is engaged at the moment—the drawing room will be available to us, I believe."

Renzi followed Kydd's sister into the home of her old friend, whom she was visiting. She turned to face him. "It's Thomas, isn't it?"

"Yes . . ." Renzi hesitated. "I'm truly sorry to have to say that Rosalynd . . . has been taken from us. She was drowned when a packet boat overset on the way to Plymouth."

Cecilia gasped. "No! It can't be! And—and poor Thomas. He— he must be feeling . . ."

"I rather believe it is worse than that. His intellects are perturbed. He's not seeing the point of life without Rosalynd and I fear for his future."

"Then I must go to him this instant, poor lamb. Pray wait for me, sir, I shall accompany you presently."

"No! That is to say, it might not be suitable, Miss Cecilia. You see, he is at this moment, er, disguised in drink and he—"

"He might be, um, flustered, Nicholas, but he needs us. I shall go to him," she said, with unanswerable determination.

The night was cool as they hurried through the streets, but when they reached number eighteen they were met outside by a distraught Mrs Bargus and a wide-eyed Becky clutching her from behind.