Before dawn, when the house had quieted down, Batya went to check on Nettie. She found her friend already asleep. Probably exhausted after hours of entertaining customers, Nettie hadn’t bothered to remove her smeared makeup. With her eyes closed, in the dim light of the kerosene lamp she had neglected to turn off, her beautiful face seemed ghostly. Batya registered that Nettie’s formerly full figure had lost its curves, and her hair, spread over the pillow, seemed thinner.

“You need to see a doctor,” Batya said to the sleeping girl. “In the morning I’m taking you. No more arguments about it.”

Nettie moaned. Perhaps she’d heard her. Batya touched her friend’s forehead. It was cool. No fever marked the mysterious illness that seemed to be eating her from within.

Midmorning, though, Nettie knocked on Batya’s door, waking her up.

“I went to the doctor only so you’ll stop nudging me.” Her old warm smile flickered on her face before it disappeared again. “He found nothing wrong with me.”

“Did you tell him you’re not eating?” Batya asked.

“He gave me an elixir to increase my appetite.” Nettie withdrew a small bottle from the folds of her skirt. “A few drops every day should do it.”

Batya smiled with relief. Nettie had to get better, or Freda might sell her off. “Keep your regulars from Ariana. She may be new here, but not to the profession. Her mother trained her in Hungary.”

“I’m taking care of my clients,” Nettie said, but Batya was unsure if the confidence was genuine or forced.

She rose and kissed Nettie on both cheeks, testing the temperature of the skin. It was normal. “And hide your jewelry. Those Hungarians have fast fingers.”

Nettie laughed her old laughter. “Will you stop fretting over me like a mother hen?”

Her worries assuaged, Batya put on the black dress and walked down the back staircase that opened to the recently extended corridor. Moskowitz had acquired two buildings next door, each a casa chorizo, a sausage-like row of rooms. He had refurbished the two parallel dwellings into more than a dozen new chambers, all accessible from a center portico. During the renovations he had also gutted a few rooms on the main house’s ground floor to enlarge the pavilion. In the new extra space he added nooks with upholstered raised platforms and countless pillows. Separated by sheer curtains from the main hall, the nooks offered a modicum of privacy so the girls could warm up their clients. By the time the men were eager to go upstairs to satisfy their desires, they were willing to pay more.