For all that, Ah Cum was forced to admit that his charge did not look dissipated. The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb.
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