His eyebrows rose. ‘Christ’s bones! A sovereign? For me?’
‘If you’ll bring us the water now,’ Sarah let the coughs come again, but continued through them, ‘and be kind to us when they let us out of here.’
‘I’ll be most kind, trust me.’ He lifted a hand. ‘Pass it out, then.’
Sarah bent from the waist, coughing louder. She still held the coin up. ‘Take it,’ she wheezed, stepping back a little. ‘Take it.’
Jenkins reached. He was up to his elbow in, his fingers an inch from the coin when Jenny rose up and grabbed him, using her full weight to pin him. As he yelped, wriggled and could not shift her, Sarah drew the second object from her smock.
It was the midwife’s razor. She laid the edge to his skin. ‘Cry out,’ she said softly, ‘and I’ll take a finger. If the door’s not open straightway,
