“Needles are no use without thread,” he said and promptly swallowed a length of sewing thread. A hush fell over the audience. Houdini nodded to the orchestra pit. A drumroll began. He put his hand to his mouth, gagged and acted as if he was about to vomit. The men stepped hastily away from him. Then he reached into his mouth and started to pull out a piece of thread. Out it came, longer and longer, and the audience gasped as all ten of the needles were threaded on it. At last he held up the thread triumphantly, the needles glistening in the stage lights.

The applause was thunderous. Even the men onstage applauded. The curtain came down, then Houdini went through the center opening to take several more bows. He came back, looking flushed and triumphant.

“You see what the job of the illusionist is, don’t you, Molly?” he said. “Always keep them surprised and guessing. The audience never has to know what is coming next.”

“Those needles,” I said, staring at his face, because it showed no signs of having been pierced, “don’t they hurt? How do you make sure they don’t get stuck in your throat?”

He laughed. “My dear, you should know by now: an illusionist never gives away his secrets. But I’ll tell you one thing—that’s a trick I wouldn’t want on the bill every night. I had to do it tonight because I guessed they’d want more than I had to offer. Tomorrow let’s hope that we can soften them up with the mind reading first.”

And so I went home, having agreed to meet him at the theater at eleven o’clock the next morning.

I woke early, my stomach in a knot about what I had ahead of me. I was ready and raring to go by eight, and I wanted to pay a call on Daniel the dressmaker, but I knew better than to disturb theater folk before ten. I made myself walk slowly in his direction and on the stroke of ten I knocked on his door.

“Just call me a miracle worker, but I think I’ve come up with a solution to our problems,” he said, opening the door to admit me into his cluttered room. “Rather stylish, if I say so myself.”

He handed me the garment that had been lying beside his sewing machine. I looked for somewhere to retire when he asked me to try on the garment but he laughed. “I can tell you haven’t been in the theater, my darling. We don’t worry about such things. Besides, I’ve seen it all before and you are in no danger from me.”