The whole ensemble drew one’s eyes to her face, which had gone from merely beautiful to something Titian wished he could paint. She had gone with a classic English Rose look for her makeup, but with red lipstick bright enough to cut through a fog bank.

“Madeleine Carroll has just been relegated to second place on every man’s list,” said Iris. “Is that Hartnell?”

“The frock’s a Hartnell,” replied Gwen, placing a folded, dark blue cape on her desk. “I’ve had it since before the war, but we aren’t showing our shoulders nowadays, more’s the pity, so I found the jacket at Paquin and had them dye it to match.”

“You are a walking Vogue cover.”

“Please, don’t be ridiculous,” said Gwen. “This is all Millie’s magic.”

“Oh no, ma’am,” protested Millie. “All I did was put a few finishing touches on what’s always there.”

“I need a Millie,” said Iris. “Can I have Millie?”

“No,” said Gwen.

“May I borrow her occasionally?”

“Tell you what,” said Millie. “You make sure my lady goes out more, and I’ll make up the two of you together when you do.”

“Done and done,” said Iris.

“I’m not going out more,” insisted Gwen. “I told you, this is for business.”

“And what business are you doing done up like this?” asked Millie.

“We’re secretly vetting an aristocratic bachelor for a prospective bride,” said Gwen.

“At an opulent ball,” added Iris. “Which we are crashing.”

“Is your job always like this?” Millie sighed. “It sounds wonderfully exciting and romantic. Take me next time, and you can both dress up.”

“Next time, we will,” said Iris. “How do I look?” She twirled in front of her desk.

“Hang on one second, Miss,” said Millie, coming over and retying the apron. “There. Now the bow’s done properly. There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your shoes,” said Millie. “They’re too nice for a lady’s maid.”

“Oh dear, so they are,” said Iris, inspecting them. “Say, what size are yours?”

“Fours.”

“Perfect. May we trade for the night?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind wearing those for a night out,” said Millie, eyeing Iris’s peep-toe sling-backs.

“I thought you were visiting your sister,” said Gwen.

“My sister who’s got a boyfriend who’s got a best friend who is dreamy,” said Millie wistfully.

“Sounds like you’ll be having a more romantic time than we will,” said Iris as she traded her heels for Millie’s sensible work shoes.

“Here’s hoping,” said Millie. “Good night, ma’am, Miss Sparks. Good hunting!”

“Thank you, Millie,” said Gwen. “Good night.”

Iris walked around the room, staring at her feet. “Could these be any clunkier?” she complained. “And I lose an inch. I was short enough before.”

“The better to hide in dark corners,” said Gwen, sitting behind her desk. “I wish I could disappear.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Iris, sitting across from her.

“I’m nervous, is what’s wrong. I haven’t been to one of these affairs—Well, there haven’t been many lately, of course, but the last one I went to was with Ronnie, and that was years ago. Little Ronnie was still in nappies, and I was feeling bloated and unattractive and said so, and the next thing I knew, my husband had whisked me out shopping for a new frock and shoes and we ended up dancing at the Dorchester. I think I danced with every man in the room that night, possibly including a waiter.”