"Scotland," Henry echoes, his eyebrows raised, "why were you there?" and Geneviève explains: "I was following the person who was responsible for the murders of two of His Majesty's Counsellors, I had traced him to Edinburgh and identified him, I was following him up the High Street and," she paused, as if uncertain as to how much she could , or should, reveal, then: "before I could get close enough, he disappeared, as if into, what is the expression? into thin air; that was when I discovered the existence of that very thing—thin air, as if the separation of different Times and Places were simply a thinness that separates two distinct Times and Places which are yet one, do you know what I mean?" and Henry was silent a moment, pondering, then: "yes, I do, I have come across it before—not personally, but I have a young Ward who disappeared hundreds of years ago, from the village in Scotland where I was born and found herself here, in London, just a few hundred yards away from this house, in a wardrobe, a year ago; I do not claim to understand what permits, or enables, this passage, it certainly doesn't comply with horse sense as I know it, but because of Griselda, I know that it exists," and Geneviève nodded: "well, this person I was following seems to have a knowledge, a map or guide, which enables him to move easily from one world to another, and I followed him," she paused and Henry asked: "you went through the same place?" and she nodded: "yes, I had observed—my faculties are highly developed, for my profession, you understand—exactly where he had been the moment before he was no longer there, so I followed him and stepped from the street in Edinburgh into another place, with no houses, no people, no traffic, just an open hillside, facing a mountain, one of three which, I later discovered, the Romans had named Trimontium," and Henry said: "ah! the Eildon Hills," and Geneviève: "just so, and I caught sight of him, crossing the river and I watched as he climbed the hill, or mountain, opposite and enter a cave, so I set off after him," and Henry stared at her, in awe, or admiration: "you are very brave, Geneviève," he said softly, but not soft enough, for she heard him and smiled, then: "and yet I can be foolish, for I did not realise that I was, myself, being followed, by his own man, who had been set—as I later discovered—to guard the Gateway, not from me in particular, but for his Master's general security; I neglected to follow the rules of my Craft, to ensure that I am not being watched, for I was in a hurry, to keep him in sight, particularly as I had no idea where this Gateway would lead and didn't want to lose him," when Henry interrupted: "who was this person, the one you were following?" and Geneviève looked around, somewhat theatrically it seemed to Henry, as if to ensure they were not being overheard: "do you know the name, Sir Parlane MacFarlane?" and Henry sat back, looking surprised, yet at the same time as if what he had heard had been expected and Geneviève asked: "you do, don't you Henry? you know of him?" and the doctor nodded slowly: "not personally, I have never met the man, but he uses the name Sir Peveril here, and Griselda, who I mentioned, was being groomed for his pleasure—he has a circle of associates who are devoted to the corruption of young girls, and boys too; Florence and I took in Griselda and Minnie when they escaped and the woman, who was used by MacFarlane as a prostitute and procuress, was beaten so severely because she lost the two young girls that she almost died, and it was only thanks to Florence's dedicated nursing that she survived and she now lives here too, but she is too traumatised to go to the police or give evidence against her abuser; her life had been chaotic and the police here give little credit to the testimony of women of her class and occupation, regarding them as only getting 'what they deserve,' it is an appalling, but widely accepted view, so the three lie low, as you might say, while they all recover from their abuse; but I have two other friends, well, patients and friends, who know something of MacFarlane and they might be of interest to you—your dress, while being of high quality and excellent manufacture, is rather dated and . . . . ." she cut in: "old fashioned? well it is almost 100 years old and styles and fashions change, you know—perhaps not so much for men," and Henry laughed: "I still wear my father's old bridge-coat from his service with the Royal Navy, but yes, if we don't want to draw attention to you, or have people think you are going to a costume ball, we shall have to find other clothes—do you object to wearing things wich have belonged to other people?" and this time she laughed: "you mean 'second hand'? not at all, when I have to disguise myself I will beg, borrow or steal whatever I need," and Henry said: "well, I don't think you will have to do any of those; Fanny and Stella are very much like yourself—in height and figure, at least to my eye, and other things—and if you are agreeable, and they are too, perhaps we might come to an arrangement, so far as I know they are very up to date with their styles and seem to have wardrobes bursting with clothes, and they are both quite quixotic and I do believe that they will be entranced by you and fall over themselves to assist you—of course Geneviève, it is entirely up to you how much you disclose to them, I would only invite them to meet you to discuss a favour and you will tell them what you consider necessary, what do you think?" at which she clapped her hands together and beamed at him: "wonderful, Henry, you are my saviour as well as my doctor!" and he blushed to his roots!