“How about exploring together? Get the lay of the land? I’ve never been to a docking tower before, have you?”

Quesnel’s shook his head.

“But… sparkles,” said Prim forlornly.

“We can shop after a bit of a wander and a nice nosh, what do you say?” Rue’s eyes were shining hopefully.

Primrose said, suspiciously, “Tea?”

“Tea in a proper tea-shop. There must be one somewhere. All the best towers have tea-shops. Fortnum & Mason has three.”

Nothing else could possibly draw Primrose away from rubies. “Oh, very well.”

Quesnel was disposed to be agreeable. “The opportunity to spend more time in your glorious company, how could I resist?”

“How could you, indeed?”

Quesnel gave Rue big violet puppy eyes – back and forth between her and the stall of gadgets.

Rue relented. “Very well, you may acquire gadgets on the ship’s account. A few, mind you. I’m not made of money. And nothing too greasy.”

Quesnel brightened.

Primrose looked pathetically at her.

“No, dear.” Rue was firm. “I don’t think I could convince even Dama that we needed jewellery on the ship’s account. Spend your own money.”

They shifted so Quesnel was in the middle, as was proper and, arms linked, the three strolled the perimeter.

Rue enjoyed herself immensely. The tower was fascinating. It was so unlike her experience in London, with the exception of the theatre district. Even so, one rarely saw day labourers in the West End during fashionable hours. Yet here was surely every possible example of human life. Not to mention a wide range of objects and animals. They saw so many small dogs carried about the person that Primrose said, “Do you think I should return to the ship for Footnote? I could wrap him around my neck. Everyone who is anyone seems to be wearing a pet.”

“What footnote?” wondered Quesnel.

“Not what, who. My brother’s cat.”

Rue said, “While it does seem the thing to do, and I know you like to follow the very latest styles, you would look somewhat less fashionable with scratches all over your face.”

Primrose nodded. “Quite right, of course. I notice no one is using a cat – probably too difficult.”

“One for cat-kind,” said Rue. “Best not used as accessories.”

Quesnel, only just following their rapid-fire banter, asked, “Wait. Miss Tunstell, your brother brought a cat on board my ship?”

“My ship,” corrected Rue without rancour.

“I beg your pardon, but why?”

Primrose said, “Why not?”

Rue added, “All the best ships have cats.”

Quesnel decided not to press the point.