Jamie watches the silent curses backing up in me. Steward Latimer has been nothing but kind to me, and the notion of him discovering my lie drops a stone in my stomach. I will need to follow the lie with another.

He shrugs. “So? You’re an eccentric old bat. Don’t worry about it.”

The lunch bugle at last disperses the crowd, and Jamie, Bo, and I finally troop back to Room 14. Olly and Wink are chattering excitedly over the money on their bunk, the sight of which pushes worries over Steward Latimer from my mind.

Olly scoops up a pile and lets it fall through his fingers. “We’re bleeding rich. We belong up there with the nobs now. Wink and I counted sixty-odd pounds here, plus a bunch of coins we don’t know how to count.”

The jangle of coins reminds me of the swingy rag “Opportunity.” That’s seven pounds per Johnny, a whole month’s wages.

Olly bites down on a gold coin that doesn’t look English. “If I was going to America, the first thing I’d buy is an Oreo biscuit. Heard tell it’s like eating chocolate cake and hardtack in one bite. That or muscles the size of Mr. Domenic’s.”

Jamie chortles. “That’s out of your budget.”

“But you could get muscles the size of Bo’s,” Wink pipes up.

“Get in line,” Bo mutters. We all laugh, and Bo pulls Wink’s cap over his eyes.

Then Jamie does a handstand in the middle of the beds. Letting his legs spread, he carefully lifts one hand from the floor and holds his position, looking like a seabird flexing its wings. The lads clap and holler, and hope rises in my chest.

Jamie is remembering how it feels to fly.

The hour approaches when Mr. Stewart is due on his deck chair. Judging by his reaction, the man liked what he saw, but if he didn’t, Mrs. Sloane will find out.

I don the honeycomb dress, vanilla coat, and bowler, which Charlotte sent to Room 14 in a traveling valise. Wrapping our treasure in two towel bundles so they don’t make noise, I carry it in the valise to the safety of Mrs. Sloane’s room, rehearsing what to say to Steward Latimer in case I run into him. Fortunately, he does not appear. After I add our earnings to the seat cushion, reserving a few coins for my pocket, I make my way to the Promenade.

Jamie and the banker’s daughter are already deep in conversation next to the lemonade stand by the time I arrive. Charlotte wrings her hands as she speaks, a dress of dotted swiss swishing as she fidgets. Strudel paces between them, issuing a yip-yip! when she sees me. Charlotte sucks in air through her teeth. “I’m sorry for my clumsiness.”

I fix my lips into a reassuring smile. “You did well today, and we appreciate it.”