Houdini didn’t stop drilling me until it was time for him to leave for the theater. He would have to perform alone tonight, but I was told to watch from backstage.

“Make sure you double-check all your props, Harry!” Bess called after him. “Take care of yourself.”

As I sat in the train going home I considered again what a ridiculous task I had undertaken. How could I possibly be expected to protect Houdini? How could I possibly be ready to go onstage as his assistant? I found myself repeating over and over, in time to the rhythm of the train, “right foot forward means spades. Eyebrows raised means . . . mouth open once quickly means . . .” How on earth was I going to master them, as well as moving gracefully like one who is a trained performer, not tripping over my feet and generally looking like a convincing magician’s assistant—at the same time as watching out for any potential threat. It seemed like such a daunting task that I was almost ready to go to the theater this evening and tell him that I was quitting.

And I realized another thing, as the train slowed for my station: the subject of money had not come up. I was doing all this without any assurance that Houdini was going to pay me for my efforts.

My intention was to go home, change my clothes, grab a bite to eat, and then go back to the theater to watch again from the wings—and this time to take notes. But as I reached Patchin Place the door opposite opened and Sid’s head poked out.

“We’ve caught you, you elusive creature,” she said. “Where have you disappeared to? Are you still working on that case you told us about?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“The one involving the theater? Are we to see you as another chorus girl?”

“You know I can’t divulge the secrets of my cases,” I said.

“How annoying,” Sid said. “Does that mean you will not be free this weekend?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Sid pouted. “Can’t you put your work aside until Monday, because, you see, Gus and I have been invited to a cottage in Newport. Doesn’t that sound divine? Away from all this heat and noise and two days at the ocean?”

“It does sound wonderful,” I agreed, “but I really can’t get away. I’ll be thinking of you.”

“But Molly—I used the word ‘cottage’ but you know that it’s really a mansion. One of Gus’s many cousins has married well. Think of the strawberries and cream and croquet on the lawns.”

“I really am sorry, Sid,” I said. “I’d really love to come but I’ve already arranged things with my client to be on hand tomorrow and Sunday.”