Possibly he knew what I meant. I always maintain that man had more human perception than most people gave him credit for. At any rate, we parted on good terms, almost affectionate, though I don’t know why I should have thought of him as I climbed from the rear seat of the limousine and walked under the portico to the front hall of Government House, where Miss Drewes stood waiting for me, mouth twitching. Maybe it was because of Freddie’s revelations that afternoon. Maybe it was some fleeting visitation of the cataclysm to come.

Miss Drewes and I had never quite become friends. I don’t know why. I liked her—efficient, intelligent, sly sense of humor lurking beneath that Mount Holyoke polish—and I believe she liked me. But like a pair of neighboring cog wheels that couldn’t seem to match their respective teeth, we never really clicked together, if you know what I mean. I’d always presumed this was because she was so terribly protective of the duchess, and I had been trusted with altogether too much power, in her estimation.

And yet, as she greeted me in the hall, as she led me upstairs to the duchess’s suite, I had the feeling that Miss Drewes was suppressing the desire to laugh. Her mouth twitched, as I said. She had almost nothing to say to me, in contrast to her usual experienced patter. I asked what this was concerning, and she said it was a private matter, and the duchess would explain herself. Upstairs, the air was warm and musty, smelling of the usual Bahamas mildew, of dampish wood and rich flowers. When we arrived at the duchess’s door, Miss Drewes seemed to hesitate before she raised her hand to rap on the wooden panel. She cast me a small, nervous smile and knocked twice. The duchess’s deep voice floated back: Come in.

Miss Drewes turned the knob and stood aside for me.

Unwell the duchess might have been, but she paced the blue-and-white carpet of her blue-and-white dressing room with true American spirit. The suite was decorated in the French Provençal style, awfully elegant, mirrors all over the place that surrounded you with a thousand off-kilter versions of yourself. On the settee, Wallis had draped a number of splendid gowns. She didn’t bother to greet me, only waved her hand at the dresses and said, “There you are, dear Lulu. I’ve been cleaning out my wardrobe. So many dresses. I was wondering if any of these might fit you.”

I suppose I gave her a shocked look, because she laughed.

“Oh, don’t be shy. We’re about the same height, aren’t we?”

“And that’s about where the resemblance ends, as anyone with eyes can see.”

“Let’s give them a try anyway, shall we?”

I crossed my arms. “I’m terribly grateful, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be any use.”