– The damned rain has spoilt my new suit! – said Anthony, with a light laugh, as he took off his wet coat and threw it into a corner of the small, sparsely furnished anteroom. – I shall not catch a cold after the Thames has poured over me!

– You're right, my friend, not another word! – Jeremy clapped his hands together and shouted, "Eddie! Get me a glass of brandy, and a full one at that! And don't you dare drink half of it on the way, you moustache! – Then he turned to Anthony again: "You're soaked to the skin! Well, take off your rags and we'll dry them by the fire. We won't be needing clothes tonight anyway: Mrs.Bree's whorehouse is waiting for us upstairs.

– It's going to be a busy evening," Anthony grinned, and suddenly a beautiful woman's face appeared before his eyes, causing him to ask, "Any redheads?

– Since when did you start liking redheads? – Jeremy chuckled at that. – You're lucky, though: there are two redheaded girls at our little gathering. And Eddie's already got his eye on two blondes.

– If there are two redheads and two blondes, how many girls have you ordered? – Anthony laughed. – Half a board? Am I right?

– What do you take me for! – Jeremy exclaimed hotly. – All the girls of the brothel are at our service, and no less!

That night Anthony was having fun with the two red-haired, corrupt brothel girls of Mrs.Bree's, imagining that his beautiful, fiery-haired cousin Vivian was in his bed. The heroine of his fantasies slept on silk sheets under the protection of Greenhall, but she never dreamed and had no idea that her cousin had already fallen at her feet.

Stately Greenhall slept, and only one person took the time to put out the candle in her large, cold bedroom: Lady Cranford held a small portrait in her slightly trembling fingers, and her lips moved in silent muttering.

– Miss Vivian! – broke the silence of the bedroom with someone's whisper.

Silence.

– Miss Vivian! – The whisper became a little louder and more insistent.

Silence again.

– Miss Vivian! Good morning! Time to get up! – Jane shook the sleeping girl lightly by the shoulder.

Vivian grumbled unhappily, frowned and hid her face in the pillow.

Jane waited patiently for a few minutes and then began to wake her mistress again.

– Miss Vivian! It's morning! It's time for you to get up! – She said insistently, and went to the dark curtains, which were closed tightly, and opened them sharply, and the room was immediately filled with the pale but cheerful light of a June morning in London.

– No, no, I'm not ready yet! – Vivian said in a low protesting tone, her voice sounding muffled, for her face was still hidden in the pillow.

– But Lady Cranford has commanded it! She expects you in half an hour for breakfast in the Little Dining-room! – Jane went to the bed and resolutely took the blanket from Vivian, causing her to wrap her arms round her shoulders and tuck her legs under her, but continue to lie there.

– God, her again! She ordered it! – Miss Cowell grumbled: What time is it?

– Half-past seven, Miss Vivian.

– Is my aunt awake, or has she nothing else to do but eat breakfast so terribly early? – Vivian wrinkled her nose, but slowly got out of bed: alas, she realised that she had no way of not turning up for an early breakfast-she was at the mercy of her aunt's strange routine. The thought of pretending to be ill flashed through her mind, but thinking that then she would have to stay in her room all day, she dismissed it: for today she had shops and ateliers waiting for her, where she would buy and order beautiful hats, dresses, shoes, gloves, and parasols! No, this pleasure Viviane could not sacrifice even for a few more hours of sleep!