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"Bad girl, bad girl!" Cassandra squawks.
"Tonight," Nell says hoarsely."You must listen. You must see. It's our last chance."
My hand hurts like the devil. Worse, in the corridor, Mr. Snow waits, leering. He shouldn't be here in the female ward, and I wonder how he's slipped in. There's no debating it. I shall have to cross in front of him to get to the dance. Screwing my courage to the sticking place, I square my shoulders and stride past as if I own Bethlem Royal. Mr. Snow falls into step with me.
"You're a right pretty one, you are."
I keep walking, refusing to respond. Mr. Snow jumps before me, walking backward. I look about for help, but everyone is in the ballroom.
"Will you let me pass, sir?"
"Give us a kiss, then. A kiss to remember you by." "Mr. Snow, remember yourself, please," I say. I try to sound firm, but my voice shakes.
"I've a message for you from them," he whispers.
"Them?"
"The girls in white." His face is so close I can smell the sourness of his breath."She's in league with the dark ones. With the one who comes. She will lead you astray. Do not trust her," he whispers, giving that same sick leer.
"Are you trying to frighten me?" I say.
Mr. Snow puts his hands against the wall on either side of my head."No, miss. We're trying to warn you."
"Mr. Snow! That will do!" At last one of the nurses appears and Mr. Snow slinks off down the hall, but before he does he calls to me, urgently.
"Careful, miss! Such a pretty little head!"
It isn't until I'm safely away from him that I remove my glove and examine the injury done to my hand. It isn't terrible. More like a deep scratch. But for the first time I've got my doubts about Nell Hawkins.
For the first time, I am afraid of her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE BETHLEM DANCE IS A VERY POPULAR AFFAIR. The hospital teems with people who have all arrived by invitation and by the purchase of a ticket allowing admission. Some have come for the music and dancing or out of a sense of charity; others for the curiosity of seeing the mad of Bedlam curtsying and bowing to one another, with the hopes that some strange, scandalous thing will occur, something they might repeat at this ball or that dinner. Indeed, two ladies watch discreetly as a nurse coaxes a tattered doll from the fierce grip of a patient, soothing the old woman with assurances that her "little girl" will be best served by a good night's rest in the"nursery." "Poor dear," the ladies murmur, and,"Breaks the heart," though I can tell from the light in their eyes that they've gotten a taste of what they've come for--a peek behind the curtain at despair, horror, and hopelessness, so that they may be happy to close it again and keep its taint far from the safe borders of their well- tended lives. I wish for them a long dance with Mr. Snow.
The dance is well under way by the time I spy Felicity and Ann inching toward me through the throng. Mrs. Worthington has come as chaperone, but she's otherwise engaged, talking to the hospital's physician superintendent, Dr. Percy Smith.
"Gemma! Oh, what happened here?" Felicity says, seeing my bloodstained glove.
"Nell Hawkins bit me."
"How awful," Ann says.
"Miss McCleethy's been here already today. Nell's in a very distressed state. But she knows where to find the Temple, and tonight, she's going to reveal it."
"If she proves reliable," Ann says.
"Yes,"Iadmit."If."
Tom's suddenly beside me. He fiddles nervously with his tie. "I think it's proceeding rather well, don't you?" "It is the best dance I've ever attended," Ann says. It is the only dance she's ever attended, but now hardly seems the time to mention it.
"I do hope tonight's performance is satisfactory," Tom says, looking in Dr. Smith's direction."I've had some of the patients prepare a small program of entertainment for this evening."
"I'm certain it will be a delight to all," Ann says as if it were a matter of grave importance.
"Thank you, Miss Bradshaw. You are exceedingly kind."Tom offers a genuine smile.
"Not at all," Ann says before staring longingly at the dance floor.
