in Monk’s nature. They were too alike in some aspects, and too unalike in others. “He seemed in excellent health,” he finished with a tight smile, meeting Callandra’s eyes. “And how are you? We have spoken of everything else….”
She looked down at her plate for a moment, then up again at him.
“I am very well, thank you. Do I not look it?”
“Indeed, you look exceptionally well,” he replied truthfully, although he had actually just noticed it for the first time. “You have found an interest?”
“How perceptive of you.”
“I am a detective.”
She looked at him very steadily and for that moment there was honest and equal friendship between them, without barrier of words.
“What is it?” he said quietly.
“I am on the Board of Governors in the Royal Free Hospital.”
“I am delighted.” He knew her late husband had been an army surgeon. It was a position which would suit her experience and her natural abilities and inclinations admirably. He was genuinely pleased for her. “How long?”
“Only a month, but already I feel I have been of some service.” Her face was quickened with excitement and her eyes brilliant. “There is so much to be done.” She leaned forward across the table. “I know a little about the new methods, Miss Nightingale’s beliefs about air and cleanliness. It will take time, but we can accomplish what will seem like miracles if we work hard enough.” Unconsciously she was beating her forefinger on the tablecloth. “There are so many progressive doctors, as well as the die-hards. And the difference it makes to have anesthetic! You have no idea how things have changed in the last ten or twelve years.”
She pushed the sugar scuttle away, her eyes intent upon his. “Do you know they can make a person completely senseless, oblivious of pain, and then recover him without harm!” Again her finger beat on the cloth. “That means all manner of surgery can be performed. There is no longer any need to tie a person down and hope to complete everything in a matter of two minutes or so. Now speed is not the primary consideration: one may take time—and care. Inever imagined I would see such things—it is absolutely marvelous.”
Her face darkened and she leaned back again. “Of course, the trouble is we still lose at least half the patients to infection afterwards. That is where we must improve things.” Again she leaned forward. “But I am sure it can be done—there are brilliant and dedicated men here. I really feel I may make some difference.” Suddenly the earnestness vanished and she smiled with total candor. “Finish your pie and have some more.”
He laughed, happy for her enthusiasm, even though he knew so much of it would end in defeat. Still, any victory was precious. “Thank you,” he accepted. “It is really exceedingly good.”
2
T
HE FOLLOWING DAY
about ten o’clock Monk walked along to Hastings Street again and called at number fourteen. This time Julia received him in a state of some concern.
“Good morning, Mr. Monk,” she said, coming in and closing the door behind her. She was dressed in pale blue-gray and it became her delicate coloring, even though it was a very ordinary day dress with a high neck and the barest of trimmings. “You will be circumspect, won’t you?” she said anxiously. “I don’t know how you can possibly make inquiries without either telling people what you are seeking or arousing their suspicions. It would be disastrous if they were to learn the truth, or even to imagine it!” She stared up at him with puckered brows and a flush in her cheeks. “Even Audley, Mr. Penrose, was curious yesterday as to why you called. He is not especially fond of cousin Albert, and had not thought that I was either. Which is true, I am not; he was just the most suitable excuse that came to my mind.”
“There is no need to be concerned, Mrs. Penrose,” he said gravely. “I shall be very discreet.”
“But how?” she