Meg set the jar down on the tiny table beside Erik, noticing the intricate mother-of-pearl pattern inlaid on the ebony top. She brought some fresh bandages from the bedroom and laid them beside the carved jar of ointment.

She didn't meet his eyes as she slipped his shirt from his thin body and removed the bandages.

She was relieved to see that the wound was slowly beginning to heal. She carefully spread the slippery green salve over it.

As she leaned over him to wrap a fresh bandage over his shoulder, her skirt pooled over his knees.

When she began to button his shirt for him, he caught her wrist.

"I can manage now," he said tensely.

But then, as he let go of her hand, his voice softened.

"Thank you, Meg."

For some reason, that commonplace civility made Meg blush as she back away from him and pulled her skirt into place.

She unwrapped the parcel from the market.

"I brought more wine and eggs from the market," she said, setting her purchases out on his desk.

She tried not to grin when he scowled at her.

"You need to build up your strength, Erik. I can't stay with you forever."

She came back to him with a napkin which she spread on his lap.

"Here," she said, handing him a soft roll, "I bought some brioche, too. You must be hungry."

He took the bread from her as she set a small glass of wine beside him.

"I eat very little when I…"

He paused. What good would it to trouble this girl with his strange habits, habits acquired during a life of isolation.

"Thank you again, Meg," he said instead.

She drew some franc notes from his pocket.

"Here's the rest of your money, Erik. The Egyptian man did not charge me for the salve and the food did not cost much."

She held out the money towards him.

"Is that all you bought," he said, gesturing to the items on the desk.

She continued to surprise him. There was no need for her to return the money to him. She could have bought much more, a little something for herself.

He remembered those early days when he would secretly leave little gifts for Christine. Long before the obsession began, when he was only her unknown teacher, he would leave small presents for her…a pretty tin of chocolates, a blue silk ribbon for her hair, a flower…

How she would smile, her eyes lighting up with delight at each unexpected treat.

"You may keep that, Meg," he said.

But she had already tucked it back inside the music box and snapped the lid shut.