When I finish, I set down my feet and stroll to the facilities. The mirror forces me to reckon with my appearance. My uneven hair forms messy waves. Mum called my “lion’s mane” my best feature. It’s thick and glossy, an almost black that glints red in the sun.

Running the tap, I make liberal use of the bergamot soap. Then, with my wet hands, I knot my hair and smooth my tweaky eyebrows. At least my eyes look bright, despite my chewed-up mouth.

From Mrs. Sloane’s trunk, I remove the “bubby-cubby” of my own invention, which I use to bind my chest for performing. If I’m going to dine with Jamie’s company, I’ll have to blend in using Jamie’s spare sea slops, and the bubby-cubby hides my shape.

Once that is in place, I slide the dress over my head and shoulders. Somehow April cut the garment perfectly so that it doesn’t need buttons. I pin the bee-swarm veil to the velvet toque April also left for me—trying not to disturb its fan of hackle feathers—then arrange the hat over my hair.

Despite resolving to ignore the mirror, I ogle myself, unsure who that royal lady is. The dress’s waist nips in, and the skirt skims my hips. My carriage has always been unassailable, thanks to years of line practice, but wearing a fine dress like this seems to pull my spine even straighter, as if someone is pulling it up by a string.

From the photograph on the table, Mum seems to lift an eyebrow at me. “Sorry, Mum, it’s the clothes. I can’t help it.” I sweep up the picture, wondering if I should show it to Jamie. But seeing Mum would sadden him, and he’s still angry with Ba. It isn’t the time. I tuck it back into Ruth and close the book.

Finally, I step into the pumps. They are two sizes too big, and were it not for the straps, they would probably break my ankles. My own black boots would serve me better if I need to run. They are high quality, with real metal aglets, not glue or wax, on the laces. But even I know that wearing those clunkers with such a fine frock would cause heads to shake—not exactly the effect April intended. Plus, if I really need to run, I doubt I could do it in this dress anyway.