Felicity jumps up. "I shall call Franny. For all her tiresomeness, she is a most excellent seamstress."
Franny is summoned. When Felicity explains what she wants done, the girl's eyes go wide with disbelief.
"Should I ask Mrs. Worthington first, miss?"
"No, Franny. It is to be a surprise for my mother. She will be so very happy to see Miss Bradshaw well turned out."
"Very well, miss."
Franny measures Ann."It will be difficult, miss. I cannot say if there will be enough fabric."
Ann blushes. "Oh, please don't bother. I'll wear what I wore to the opera."
"Franny," Felicity says, making her name into a sweet lullaby, "you are such a skilled seamstress. I am sure that if anyone can do it, you can."
"But once I alter it, miss, I can't change it back again," Franny says.
"Leave that to me," Felicity says, pushing her out the door with the dress in her arms.
"Now, let's see to giving you a waist," Felicity barks.
Ann braces herself against the wall with both arms. She starts to turn back to say something to me, but Felicity pushes her head forward again.
"You're not going to pinch me too terribly, are you?" "Yes," I say matter-of-factly."Now hold still." I give a sharp tug on her corset laces, cinching in Ann's waist as much as I possibly can.
"H-h-heavens," she gasps.
"Again," Felicity says.
I pull hard, and Ann straightens, panting for breath, tears pricking at her eyes.
"Too tight," she croaks.
"Do you want to wear the dress?" Felicity taunts.
"Yes ... but I don't want to die."
"All right, no use having you faint on us." I loosen the laces a bit and color floods Ann's face.
"Here, sit," I say, guiding her to the chaise. She has no choice but to sit straight as a church steeple. She breathes as heavily as a worked horse.
"It isn't quite so bad once you're accustomed to it," Ann whispers, giving a weak smile.
Felicity throws herself on the chaise again."Liar."
"What did you make of Nell Hawkins's performance? It was pure gibberish to me," Ann says, struggling for breath. "Tom looked very handsome, I think. He's so kind."
"I've not been able to make sense of it myself," I answer. "Offer hope to the Untouchables; do not let the song die. Be careful with beauty; beauty must pass."
"Do not leave the path. What did that mean?" Ann wonders aloud.
"How about the slippery, nippery nymphs?" Felicity says, giggling. "Or Beware the Poppy Warriors! They will gobble you up. Gobble, gobble!"
Ann starts to giggle, but the corset cuts her merriment short. She can only smile and pant. "She was trying to tell us something. I'm sure of it." I'm feeling quite defensive on this matter.
"Come now, Gemma! It was a nonsense poem. Poor Nell Hawkins is as mad as a hatter."
"Then how did she know about the gorgon or the Forest of Lights? Or the golden mist?"
"Perhaps you told her."
"I didn't!"
"She read it somewhere, then."
"No," I protest. "I believe she was speaking to us in a code, and if we can decipher it, we shall unlock the mystery of the Temple's
location."
"Gemma, I know you wish to believe that Nell holds the key to all of this, but I must say, having seen her, that you are mistaken. "'
"You sound like Kartik." I instantly regret mentioning his name.
"What is it, Gemma? You're frowning," Ann inquires.
"Kartik. He's gone."
"Gone? Gone where?" Felicity asks, pulling on a stocking and examining it against the curve of her calf.
"Back to the Rakshana. I insulted him, and he left."
"What did you say?" Felicity asks.
"I told him I didn't even think of him as Indian."
"What is insulting about that?" Felicity says, not understanding. She removes the stocking and drops it on the floor. "Gemma, are we to go into the realms tonight? I want to show Pip my new gown and wish her a merry Christmas."
"It will be difficult to get away," I say. "Nonsense. There are always opportunities to escape from the chaperones. I've done it before."
"I wish to enjoy the ball," I say.
Felicity fixes me with a mocking smile. "You wish to enjoy Simon Middleton."
"I was rather hoping to dance with Tom," Ann admits.