The crimson seat cushions of the chaise longue catch my eye. I pull one off, exposing the slipcover buttons. Undoing a button, I push my money sock deep inside, then replace the cushion so that the bulge doesn’t show.

A knock on the door makes me jump. “It’s April.”

I open the door and April bustles in, carrying yet another alligator suitcase. Her eyes jump around my shorn hair, and she combs her fingers through one side. “Interesting. Well, short is so much more practical.”

“Is Mr. Ismay sending a hunting party after me?”

“If you are referring to Valor the juggler, I told Bruce to relax. The crowds need their diversions, and it sounds to me like the show you were putting on in third class was just as entertaining as the one you were giving in first.”

“And what about the Merry Widow?”

“I admit he’s curious. I told him I’d try to find out more about you.”

“You . . . what?”

“Better me than anyone else, wouldn’t you say?” She grins.

I have to admit, the fox is clever.

She fingers the reminder card for my meeting with the captain. “Aha! I knew this would be coming. Good thing I brought the kimono. It’s a pièce de résistance.” She sets the suitcase on the chaise longue and unbuckles the straps. “They were talking about you today at the Café Parisien. Come now, I’ll help you change into evening wear.”

“I wasn’t planning to go out.”

“Well, then, I’ll just show you how this one works so that if you do feel like an evening stroll, you’ll be appropriately attired.”

“Why can’t I just wear the crane dress? Not everyone saw it.”

“The crane dress could be worn in the evening—I like clothes to be versatile like that—but it’s expected that women will change into something different for dinner, and I can’t have the Merry Widow making a faux pas. Quickly now, Mother’s waiting for me.” She grabs the skirt of the crane dress and smoothly pulls it over my head.

“How do you make it so it doesn’t need buttons?”

“I cut the fabric on the bias. It uses more cloth, but the diagonal weave means the fabric will stretch.”

I’m not sure I understand everything she says, but I nod, suddenly self-conscious standing in my underthings.

“Good heavens, what do you call that contraption?”

“My, er, bubby-cubby.”

A laugh explodes from her. “Bubby-cubby. You made it?”

“Yes. It keeps the biscuits on the table. I even thought of some improvements, like stretchier fabric for the shoulder straps, and hooking it in the front.”

“I like how you think.” Her gaze becomes thoughtful as she shakes out a rose-colored dress.