“Sabrina is wearing the blue one,” Aljehambra said.
Gwendolyn bustled toward the gown on the bed. She grasped the dress by the shoulders. “This won't do at all,” she said. Turning, she held it up to me. She shook her head, clicked her tongue again. “No, no, no. This won't do at all.” She let the gown drop to the bed.
My eyes slid to Aljehambra, she made a little shrug.
Gwendolyn tapped her chin and looked me over. “You're taller than most women, but I think I might have just the perfect dress…” she turned and grabbed a velvet bell cord.
“You needn't go to any trouble,” I said.
“Pish-posh! I could ever repay you completely. A dress is nothing.” She moved toward the door, opening it to a soft knock. She spoke to a maid and gave her instructions to bring a particular dress to our room. “
