The first thing Sabina ever said to Chadworth about Rosamund was a compliment.

That was the craft of it.

It was late November, and they were in the kitchen after the girls had gone up, and Sabina was rinsing a wine glass she had no need to rinse.

“She’s remarkable with them, isn’t she,” Sabina said.

“Rosamund?

She’s been with us five years.”

“I can tell.” A pause, exactly long enough.

“It’s lovely.