Mad. The woman was mad. Arthur had her finger?! While on the one hand it seemed—oh. Dezzie’s eyes widened as the stranger held up a hand for illustration purposes and, lo and behold, it was minus one digit.

“Arthur!” she called over her shoulder rather more shrilly than she might have liked before taking a breath to compose herself. Merlin’s goddamn beard.

After a moment, Dezzie stepped back, allowing a small gap in the doorway.

“Will you come in?” she asked, not for the sake of the woman herself but because this was hardly an event suited to the prying eyes of the neighbours. Besides, letting her into the entry hall was hardly a risky maneuver.